Storybook Love
by Mendeia
Summary: "...Or; The Gundam Bride." A retelling of "The Princess Bride" where our heroes are Gundams, our villains are a bit insane, and there's always one more surprise around the corner. Can Quatre and Heero hold onto love amidst the danger and adventure, or will their troubles pull them apart? Will Wufei get his revenge? Will Trowa recover his memory? And where's Duo? Updated weekly.
1. The Beginning

...Or, The Fairytale Where Quatre Isn't The Princess For Once.

Well, this one was a whirlwind of a story, the plot bunny hitting me and INSISTING I finish within a month. Which I did. This is not the epic crossover I have been talking about, but rather a sort break from it that helped me recharge my creativity.

In case I need to make it explicit, this is a retelling of "The Princess Bride" except with our Gundam boys (and a few girls) involved. Not everybody is cast exactly according to their Gundam personalities, however. That's the nature of fairytales. Oh well. Also, major props to whoever put up the entire transcription of "The Princess Bride" online. I would have had to watch the movie eighteen million times to get all the dialogue right where I used it. It may be worth rewatching the movie to get some of the connections I drew – this is not a direct parallel, but some parts certainly shine through unexpectedly.

Obviously I don't own "The Princess Bride" or Gundam Wing. I just mashed them together into a lovely sandwich of cuteness.

I'll be putting up a chapter a week barring anything untoward happening. The story is totally done, so there should be no delay other than, you know, real life.

Lastly, awesome thanks to my beta, to whom I read this story aloud over the course of two nights. She laughed and shouted at me and we had some of the very conversations you'll get in what she calls "the second part." "The Princess Bride" is a story being told. I'm only telling it to you as it was already told to me...

Enjoy!

* * *

Heero Yuy was born and raised in the country of Sanc. The orphaned son of a master warrior, he had been trained from birth to the arts of battle, earning a place amidst the Royal Guard of the Peacecraft monarchy as a child. The winter he turned fifteen years of age, Heero defeated the captain of his troupe in single-combat and won the prestigious role of chief knight of Her Highness, Princess Relena. Heero found the girl, who was many years younger than himself, to be quiet and brave, and he devoted himself to improving his skills that he might keep her from all harm.

With his promotion, Heero was granted the use of private quarters and a valet of his own, a young man known only as Quatre, but Heero never called him that. For all that Heero was a skilled warrior and a member of the Royal Guard, he was still young himself and arrogant besides, and so never ceased in tormenting the valet from dawn to dusk with nearly impossible tasks. From demands that his valet polish his many swords until each shone like the full moon on a still lake to complaining that a tunic did not _exactly_ match the dark blue of his eyes and how was he to wear it before the princess that way – Heero made his valet's life an unending toil for impossible perfection. And yet, Quatre obeyed every order, no matter how unkind, accomplished his tasks no matter how undoable, and only ever answered his master with "_Ninmu ryokai_."

Quatre had served Heero faithfully for a full year before Heero learned what the strange words meant. They were the same oath, in the language of another land, he himself had given when the safety of Princess Relena had been entrusted to him. In essence Quatre met his every order by saying, "I accept this mission," or, as Heero had said then, "Mission accepted."

When Heero realized that his valet had taken up serving him with the same fervor he showed to his own charge, Heero's heart turned towards the young man a little more warmly. He noticed for the first time how kind Quatre was, not only to himself in spite of his cold and demanding nature, but to all who crossed his path. Quatre's eyes, not the dark blue of a storm like Heero's but brighter and calmer like the green line of the shore when at sea, were always gentle and hopeful even when his hands bled from the rough soaps that he used to clean Heero's leathers. He had a ready smile for everyone he met, everyone but Heero, to whom he bowed politely, never raised his eyes beyond what befit his station, and simply repeated "_ninmu ryokai_."

It was another year before Heero realized that when Quatre spoke his oath to Heero, he was not only accepting his master's orders; for Quatre, "_ninmu ryokai_" was also his way of saying "I love you."

Heero should have dismissed the blond young man the instant the realization hit him, but he found he had been struck utterly dumb instead – Quatre had lifted his eyes for the first time, and the intensity of their gaze met and overpowered Heero's own. Heero wasn't even sure what he had ordered his valet to do in a desperate attempt to get the other man to quit looking at him so; he only knew he had grappled with the soul of another who was strong and willful and steady, a soul that had already given itself to him, and only barely escaped.

Spring had not yet turned to summer when Heero also realized that he truly loved Quatre in return. As little as he knew him, as little as they had ever interacted but for the soldier to give his valet instructions, his heart was inextricably bound up in that bright gaze and soft smile. And as the sun began to set on Midsummer's Day, he gathered his courage to tell him so.

"Quatre," Heero called into the small room off his own quarters that belonged to his valet; he had given orders yesterday that Quatre was to stay with him all day and not join the other servants in their Midsummer's Day revels – unusually harsh even for him, but he had not wished to have him out of his sight before this moment.

Quatre rose from where he had been writing in his own language at the small table in his room – Heero knew neither what language that was or how a peasant had come to learn reading and writing – and stood at proud attention. From the day Quatre had met his eyes blazingly for the first time, he had not lowered his gaze for his master unless they were in public.

"Come with me," Heero said simply. He strode out, cognizant of Quatre's light steps behind and just to the left, as befitted a valet. The warrior led the way out of the castle to the stables, where he mounted his favorite horse, a black stallion named Winged. As he settled in the saddle, he called over his shoulder for the groom to bring out another horse. Quatre's face betrayed no surprise, his expression carefully schooled, as he was ordered to mount a plain brown mare, nothing special, but a horse of his own rather than walking alongside. Within moments, they were away from the smells and sounds of the city and out into the forest beyond. Heero led the way along a path he knew well.

The shadows had grown long when they stopped beside a small farmhouse. Heero dismounted, opening the paddock with old familiarity and turning out his horse, waiting for Quatre to do the same. Then he strode past the house to the nearby hill that afforded a beautiful view of the distant cliffs that dropped away to the sea beyond.

"Quatre," he said after a moment, "stand beside me. Not behind me."

Quatre moved so that they were shoulder to shoulder, but looked straight ahead and said nothing.

"Do you know why I have brought you here?"

Silence.

"This was my home once," Heero said. "Before my father died, this was the home I shared with him. Princess Relena has always permitted me to take care of it. Nothing at the castle matters, for none of it is real. It is all part of my duty, my mission. Only that which is truly mine, only that which is my _life_, resides here."

Heero might have imagined the tiny stiffening of Quatre's straight spine, but he didn't think he had.

"Quatre," Heero turned to him, and the blond turned as well, that firestruck gaze linking them once more, "when the time comes that I am someday defeated and lose my place at the princess's side, I want you to return here with me. Not as a valet. As an equal."

"_Ninmu ryokai_," Quatre said softly, his face still and unreadable.

"You speak to all but me, in the castle or in the city, to dozens of strangers," Heero felt something cold clutch his stomach. "I know you speak this language. But you do not speak to me. I believe it is because there is something you wish to say, and you cannot say anything else before that so you say nothing at all. Please," and he swallowed a tension he never ever felt on a battlefield, "please tell me what it is."

He didn't hesitate for a moment. "Kimi wa ai shiteru."

"And in the language of your heart, Quatre, what does that mean?"

"It means," Quatre's voice was firm, "that you are special and important to me, that I care for you far more than I should, and that I love you beyond what my station permits me, and always will."

"Good." Heero smiled, and it was a smile he almost never permitted anyone to see. "My father taught me that the only way to live a good life is to act on your emotions. His wisdom has never led me wrongly. So I give you this order, Quatre, and I hope you will accept it: forget that you are my valet in this moment and face me as you would were we alone before the gods."

There was a brief war on Quatre's expressive face, as his pale cheeks flushed and his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed, and Heero longed to trace the emotions chasing themselves across such a vibrant canvas, but at once they seemed to stop and Quatre smiled. Smiled with all the joy of the rising sun and the singing of the morning lark. Heero had seen the moon rise full over the sea but he had never seen such light after darkness.

And then Quatre's arms were around him and their lips touched and Heero felt that same joy fill his heart as well.

The sun was below the horizon when they broke apart, and Heero never knew his arms could feel so empty now that they did not have Quatre to hold. The blond was alight with happiness, his face rosy pink, and tears stood in his eyes. Heero reached up to wipe them away.

"Still silent, Quatre?" he asked with trepidation.

"You always preferred it." His voice was musical and light.

"Not anymore," Heero assured him, taking his hands firmly. "You may be my valet in the castle, but I never ever want you to be anything but this when we are alone again. Will you do this for me, Quatre? Will you be mine when you can be yourself?"

"Yes," Quatre smiled. "Yes, I will be." But his blue-green eyes darkened and he glanced out at the horizon.

"What is it?"

"I will be yours, but you cannot be mine, Heero Yuy of the Royal Guard." He turned back with a frown. "I shall have to earn my own glory to share a life with you. You deserve better than a valet, no matter the truth of my love."

"I don't, Quatre," Heero protested. "I want only you as you are."

"You don't _know_ what I really am," Quatre shook his head. Then he smiled again, a smile Heero had never seen before, filled with secret eagerness. "But you will. I promise you that."

Within the month, Quatre left his place at the palace to seek his fortune across the sea. Heero was distraught has he had not been since his father's death a decade before. In the same place overlooking the cliffs and the sea, they said their goodbyes, arms wound around one another.

"I fear I will never see you again, Quatre," Heero whispered against the blond hair he held so dear. "I have only just found you."

"And you shall find me again, or I shall find you."

"But how can you be sure? People die every day in battle, and you are not even trained with a sword!"

"Hear this now," Quatre said gently. "I _will_ come back to you. Just as you protect our Princess, just as you are her shadow and her strongest sword, so shall I follow after you and take a place at your side once more someday. And when I find myself and claim my fate, the place I shall hold with you will be better than that of a valet. I will become what I am not now. I have your love," and here Quatre laid a feather-soft kiss on Heero's forehead, "but I will earn your respect as well."

Heero could not argue that point honorably. He loved Quatre with all his soul, and he knew that Quatre was possessed of great strength of spirit, but Quatre was not a warrior with a warrior's power, and Heero could not deny that it made a difference. So he ducked his head and said instead, "I wish I knew where you get your certainty that all will end well for us. You could just as easily be killed tomorrow."

"Heero," Quatre said fondly, burying his fingers in the unruly dark hair, "this is _true love_. Do you think this happens every day?"

And they held one another as though they would never let go. But they did, and Quatre was gone.

With the first cold winds of autumn came word that the ship upon which Quatre had sailed had been attacked by the most feared pirate of all time – Shinigami. The God of Death was inescapable and unforgiving. When Heero learned that Quatre had been murdered, alone and fathoms away, for the first time in his life he abandoned his post at the side of Princess Relena. He fled the castle and took refuge in his home on the hill. For days he neither slept, nor ate. And the only words he spoke were of the deepest grief for his life that remained.

"I will never love again."

-==OOO==-

"_Heero Yuy was born and raised in the country of Sanc. The orphaned son of a master warrior, he had been trained from birth to the arts of battle, earning a place amidst the Royal Guard of the Peacecraft monarchy as a child. The winter he turned fifteen years of age, Heero defeated the captain of his troupe in single-combat and won the prestigious role of chief knight of Her Highness, Princess Relena. Heero found the girl, who was many years younger than himself, to be quiet and brave, and he devoted himself to improving his skills that he might keep her from all harm..._"

"Wait, wait."

"Yes?"

"That's not a very exciting beginning."

"Pardon?"

"I mean, the best stories always start with something like, 'On a dark and stormy night,' or something, you know?"

"No, they don't. That's only unimaginative, uninspired stories. I now find myself concerned about the quality of the literature to which you have been exposed."

"Huh?"

"Do you want to hear this story or not?"

"Yes sir."

"Good girl."


	2. Chained

Putting up this one earlier than usual because I'm going to be VERY busy in the next couple of days.

So many quotes coming up. Again, thank you so much whoever put up that transcript!

One thing I'd like to note is that if you watch the original "The Princess Bride" movie (or read the book), Buttercup is a highly passive character. For now, Heero is following in that mold, but for a totally different reason, which I hope I've explained well. But no worries, guys. He'll snap out of that stupor before too long. The story may begin just like the original, but I promise you now, it certainly won't end that way!

Enjoy!

* * *

Five years later, the square of the city was filled as never before for the great spectacle. The prince of Sanc, a young man of twenty-five years of age, had returned after a long absence, and he had announced that he would choose the person he would marry based upon the outcome of an open tournament. Young men and women came from throughout the kingdom to compete for the prince's affections and notice, while many others simply watched in awe at the battle prowess waged before their eyes.

It was tradition for all members of the royal family to be represented in such a tournament, but as Princess Relena was untrained and young, being only thirteen herself, her chief knight, Heero Yuy, stood in her stead. So it was perhaps inevitable that Prince Zechs became Heero's only rival in the competition, both outclassing all other warriors with their strength and skill. But Heero had no choice but to yield in the final combat, as he could not go against his oath and risk harming the prince, leaving Zechs himself the champion of his own tournament.

Heero lay in the dirt, looking up at the prince. He had permitted the final blow, not taking the opening that had presented itself. And he could tell from the quirk of the prince's lips that he was aware his win was a forfeit rather than a victory. He offered Heero a hand, but the knight rose to one knee on his own, lowering his head to the prince respectfully.

"Well fought, Your Highness," he said.

"I would prefer something more of a true challenge," Zechs replied. "Wouldn't you?"

"As Your Highness wishes," Heero did not look up, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the scratches in the dirt from their duel.

"Oh," and Zechs leaned forward, putting a hand on the crest of Heero's head and tipping it upwards, "I believe I shall get precisely what I wish." Laughingly, Zechs marched up to the reviewing stand to address the gathered crowds.

Heero lurched himself upright, panic beating against his chest as the prince began to speak.

"My people, it is an honor to have such skilled and powerful men and women willing to stand before me this day, not only on the field of battle but amongst you all. But I believe today has shown that a commoner like yourselves may not be so common after all. I believe it is clear that only one has earned the right to stand with me as my consort. A month from today, I shall marry the warrior known as Heero Yuy, and our land will be truly safe with him to protect it!"

Heero looked stalwartly ahead while the cheering erupted around him, his emptiness utterly consuming him. He ignored the thumps of congratulations from his fellow guards and soldiers, his eyes unseeing. Though the law of the land gave Prince Zechs the right to choose his betrothed, Heero did not love him and never would. It was as though his heart had died once more, and it ached.

Heero escaped from the palace the very next day to ride Winged as far and as fast as he could. It was an illusion of freedom, and one he permitted himself as he attempted to prepare for the future before him. To trade kisses with a man he did not love, a man whose eyes were not blue-green, whose hair was not the golden yellow of the pale morning dawn, whose shoulders did not meet his exactly, it was _abhorrent_, _impossible_ – and yet to disobey the royal family, not to mention making Princess Relena cry, was beyond him. All he had left was his post, his duties, his mission.

"_Ninmu ryokai_," he whispered to himself in resignation. He could not love Prince Zechs, but he could serve and protect him, and perhaps it would be enough.

He drew his horse up sharply upon seeing two figures on the road before him. One was a short man with a very prominent nose and grey hair that stood out like a large upturned basket on his head, wearing an embroidered white tunic and grey leggings. The other was a young man of about his own age with black hair and narrowed black eyes.

"A word, good sir," said the grey-haired man. "We appear to be lost. Is there a village nearby?"

"There is nothing nearby," Heero answered in what he knew was his stiffest way. "Not for miles."

"Then there will be no one to help you."

Later Heero would curse his grief and emptiness for the unforgivable slowness of his reactions. He read the threat in the man's posture before the words had spilled from his lips, but Heero was only beginning to draw his ever-present blade when a weight fell onto him from above. He was cognizant of Winged rearing in panic and falling over on himself, and then there was a sharp blade at his throat.

"Don't move," warned the black-eyed young man. He held a broadsword, a _dao_ from the Far East, Heero's mind informed him. Heero managed to catch a glance of auburn hair and felt the practiced movements of nimble fingers disarming him, catching even the tiniest blades hidden in his boots and the cuffs of his over-tunic. He considered his options.

"Don't," repeated the black-eyed young man warily. "There is no honor in dying just to defy us."

"Hn," was Heero's noncommittal snort in response. Heero allowed himself to be chained and led to a nearby boat. His heart both lifted and sank at the sight of it – the vessel was easily capable of a short sea voyage, so perhaps he would meet the exact same fate as Quatre in the end. He felt guilty for caring so little for his life when Quatre had so treasured it, but he also couldn't be much bothered with it, either. After all, if these men killed him, he couldn't marry Prince Zechs. And while he did not want to die _per se_, Heero found no value in living. Quatre was dead. Everything else was already meaningless.

"What are you doing, G?" the brown-haired man, whom Heero could now see was tall and lanky with piercing green eyes, called over his shoulder to the older man while he ran a chain from Heero's manacles to the mast.

"This is fabric from an Ozian soldier. Leaving it with the horse, the prince will assume his enemies have kidnapped his betrothed." The man called G tangled a length of cloth in Winged's halter before sending it back down the road with a smack. "When Zechs finds his body dead on the Ozian frontier, his suspicions will be totally confirmed."

"You never said anything about killing anyone."

"I've hired you to help me start a war. It's a prestigious line of work with a long and glorious tradition," G said proudly, climbing aboard.

"I just don't think it's right, killing an innocent person."

"Am I going mad, or did the word _think_ just escape your lips? I did not hire you for your brains, you leaping mantis!" G's face contorted angrily.

"I agree with Trowa," the black-eyed man cast them off and jumped aboard, his expression stony.

"Oh, the professor has spoken! What happens to him is not truly your concern. I will kill him! And remember this, _never_ forget this: when I found you, you were so slobbering drunk, _you couldn't even hold your precious sword_!" G turned to Trowa and raged at him. "And _you_! Friendless, brainless, helpless, hopeless! Do you want me to send you back to where you were, unemployed and following a circus around hoping for _peanuts_!?"

"Wufei..." Trowa said softly as G turned towards the bow of the ship, looking at the compass and only barely containing his anger. The younger man's face was passive but there was distress in his voice

"Don't listen to him," Wufei shook his head, black hair almost blue in the fading light, and he put a hand on the other's shoulder. "You have not lost your worth just because you lack knowledge. I am sorry now we ever took this job, but to leave now would be dishonorable too. We must see it through."

"It's still not right," and here Trowa's green eyes fixed themselves on Heero fully. "He shouldn't have to die this way."

"I know," Wufei looked at their prisoner, too, and his voice was low. "I know."

"Kill me," Heero said, startling both of them. "Kill me and be done with it. I will not blame you. I am not afraid to die."

"That's the plan!" shouted G from the bow. "Glad you're happy to go along with it, soldier."

"You would accept your fate so easily?" Wufei leaned down, frowning. "You would die as a pawn in a game of war, not caring what your death might bring?"

"I have already failed in my mission," Heero returned, voice cold. "What does the end matter after that?"

"Don't you have anything to live for?" Trowa asked.

"Not anymore." Heero looked away.

Heero closed his eyes to wait. If his time to die had come, he was more than ready to meet it.

-==OOO==-

"_...He held a broadsword, a _dao_ from the Far East, Heero's mind informed him. Heero managed to catch a glance of auburn hair and felt the practiced movements of nimble fingers disarming him, catching even the tiniest blades hidden in his boots and the cuffs of his over-tunic..._"

"Um...?"

"What is it now?"

"Well the fighting is good, but why did you call it a _dao_? Isn't it a _katana_?"

"No, it's a _dao_. I don't know why everybody gets that wrong. Lazy thinking and too many old vids."

"O...kay."

* * *

P.S. I had to put that little snark in there because it's a mistake I'm guilty of, too. But I am not going to repost all of The Silken Cord to correct it, so I'm just lumped in with the rest of the fandom who apparently didn't look closely at Wufei's sword. Sigh.


	3. The Cliffs of Insanity

Well, it appears that I missed the weekend by about half an hour. Sorry all! In recompense, here's two chapters for the day instead.

Got rid of something from the original that didn't seem to fit, and came up with a new way up the Cliffs. I hope it all works for you!

Enjoy!

* * *

"We'll reach the border of Oz by morning, and then it's only the cliffs between us and the end of this," G smugly leaned against the rail, looking at Heero as though he were a treasure of gold. In a sense, Heero thought that might be true enough.

When his words garnered no response, he turned to the other two members of his crew. Trowa was sitting not far from Heero, looking out to the port side, but Wufei sat at the stern, turned backwards.

"Why are you doing that?" G asked.

"It is prudent to ensure no one is following us," Wufei answered simply.

"That would be inconceivable."

"Not necessarily," Heero put in, feeling churlishness warm his expression. "Prince Zechs is an accomplished warrior and hunter. He will probably find and kill you all himself. He does not hesitate to spill blood."

"Of all the blood in this boat, you should really worry more about your own, perfect soldier," G sneered. Then, rolling his eyes, "Wufei, stop that!"

"Are you certain no one is following us?"

"Of course! No one in Oz knows what we've done, and no one in Sanc could have gotten here so fast." Heero noted that G didn't say that no one in _Sanc_ knew what they had done, but before he could point it out, G raised an eyebrow and asked, "Out of curiosity, why do you ask?"

"Oh, I'm certain it's nothing," Wufei said condescendingly, "but I just happened to look and I believe someone is there."

G and Trowa both rushed to the stern to look, and Heero toyed with the idea of breaking free and swimming for it. But their next words stopped him.

"It's just a small boat. Probably some local fisherman out late or lost. It's not like it's the pirate Shinigami. Then we'd have a real problem," G said slyly.

Heero's entire body tensed in sudden, blinding rage. If it had been the ship Deathscythe, the ship of Shinigami, he would have broken his arms from his body to escape if that's what it took. Even the merest _chance_ of killing the man who had taken Quatre from him was worth _anything_. But a lowly fisherman didn't interest him. Not for an instant.

Heero closed his eyes to wait for the dawn.

He woke out of a doze at Wufei announcing that the other boat was "right on top of us."

"He must be using the same wind we are using," Trowa said dryly, winking with a small smile when G's face reddened and he shouted.

"It doesn't matter! Look! The Cliffs of Insanity! Get us to the landing point at once! Speed it up! Move the _thing_! And that other _thing_!"

They rounded a granite mountaintop rising like a sentinel out of the water to a small dock, or, at least, a post and a few stones flat enough to stand upon. The boat had only just bobbed against the rocks when Trowa was already out of it, leaping to climb the cliff with the deft speed of a squirrel. Heero stared upwards at the impossible height, wondering how exactly anyone could plan to get up that, let alone with a prisoner.

"Hurry up!" G bellowed, cupping his hands around his mouth.

"You don't think he's actually going to respond to you, do you?" Wufei asked with disdain. "He's climbing the unclimable cliffs."

"I do not accept excuses," G frowned. "_Faster_!" he yelled.

"He's nearly to the first pull-rope," Wufei said calmly.

"And just in time," G turned back to the mouth of the inlet, where they could hear the water lapping against the side of an approaching boat. "Our persistent friend will have to sail around for hours to find a harbor. No one is strong enough to do this without our mindless friend."

"He's _not_ mindless," Wufei scowled.

Heero looked between the two with something approaching interest, but a moment later he was distracted by a rope that had been thrown from partway up the cliff. It looked like half the cliff-face was rigged with some kind of series of ropes, looped around stones and sometimes wooden pegs. Wufei caught the rope bundle and quickly drew Heero to his side.

"I know you do not value your life, but unless I have warranted death from you, do not resist or you will kill us all. Kill yourself later if you like, but I'd prefer to remain alive."

Heero's chained and bound hands were hooked around Wufei's right arm, even as he found himself pressed into a leather sling like a seat. G affixed himself similarly on the other side. Wufei, having gotten them both situated, ignored them for a few moments, his lips moving silently as he concentrated on calculating something only he understood. Then he drew the rope through the leather vest that linked the three together.

"Now, Trowa!" he shouted.

Above, Trowa had continued to climb, reaching about midway up the cliffs. He leaned over to where a particularly large boulder seemed slightly out of place. The thin man levered himself between the cliff and the boulder and began to push.

"Hurry!" G demanded. Heero turned to see that the other boat had rounded the inlet and was drawing up close, but before he could make out any details, he felt himself jerked violently upwards. He curled his fingers into Wufei's vest instinctively as the ground dropped away. The clattering was deafening as the boulder from above crashed into the sea, narrowly missing the second boat. Meanwhile, the ropes above tightened across the lattice of them, until the three hung suspended at the midway point of the cliff. Only then did Heero realize that Wufei's hands were tight on not one but two ropes, and he began to carefully walk them up the wall using both ropes to steady himself as he pulled at them.

"Now it's your turn to go faster," G growled.

"I already warned the soldier," Wufei never looked away from his task. "If you value your life, do not distract me. This is not as easy as it looks."

Above, Trowa was now only a few stone-throws from the top, tugging on some part of the rope rigging, and Heero saw that Trowa was assisting in hauling their weight up the cliff. It looked like brutal, back-breaking work, and his heart stirred in sympathy. Without knowing quite why, he found himself bracing his feet on the rock and beginning to take some of his own weight.

Wufei looked sharply at him the moment he shifted his body, but nodded once tersely. Heero found that if he jutted his hip out to one side he could actually serve as a bracing leg to hold fully his and half of Wufei's weight while the latter moved his foot another step higher. In moments Heero was sweating and his shoulders burned from the unnatural angle they were bound in, but he kept going. He noticed with disgust that G was doing nothing at all but complaining.

Until that complaining turned to alarm.

"Look!" G gestured. Of course, Wufei couldn't look away from the climb, but Heero did. Below, where their trailing ropes hung all the way down the cliff, he could now see a masked figure in black climbing, and making remarkable time up the ropes.

"He's climbing and he's gaining on us," Heero found himself saying aloud.

"Faster, both of you!" G ordered.

"We _are_ going faster," Wufei grit out.

"You are supposed to be this genius, and him the unstoppable acrobat, and yet he gains! I should have hired a giant instead."

"Well, _he_ is only carrying himself, while we have to contend with _you_!" Wufei shot back.

"Do I need to make it clear that your _job_ is at stake!?" G was yelling now, and his anger caused him to sway, and Wufei nearly missed a step. But Trowa yanked on one of the ropes at just the right time for him to right himself. By this point, Trowa had actually reached the top of the cliff, and within moments he was stretching down to help them.

"Soldier first," Wufei said between his heavy, exhausted breathing. Trowa nodded and caught Heero's bound wrists in his grip. Wufei shifted enough to let Heero crawl out from under his arm, and Trowa pulled him to the top of the cliff in one smooth motion. A wave of dizziness hit Heero, bad enough that he was grateful Trowa had moved him away from the edge. Heero watched through swimming eyes as Trowa yanked G, not gently, either, from Wufei's other side. Without waiting for Wufei to clear the top of the cliff, G ran to the anchor point of the ropes at the top and began sawing through them. Heero meant to make a noise of warning, but dizziness struck again and he could only hold his head as spots exploded before his eyes while the rope snapped.

The lack of indignant screaming suggested Wufei had not plummeted to his death, so Heero was able to look up after a moment of stillness. In fact, he lurched forward to join where the other three leaned over the edge of the cliff in silence. Heero's feet were still slightly unsteady, but he only bumped into Trowa a little before the acrobat grabbed his manacled hands and held him firmly. Piercing green eyes looked at him sharply.

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Hn," Heero considered. "Before the tournament."

"So the morning before yesterday. You fought a tournament, passed an entire night, and then of course we didn't feed you at all yesterday. No wonder you look like death," Wufei commented.

"He didn't fall! Inconceivable!" G exclaimed angrily.

Heero peered over the cliff's edge to see, indeed, a figure in black clinging to the rocks. The ropes were all limp and useless around him, and he looked like nothing so much as a spider amidst a broken web.

"You keep using that word," Wufei said dryly. "I do not think it means what you think it means." Then his eyes widened. "Not only did he survive, but look. He's still climbing."

"He's obviously seen us with the prince's betrothed, and must therefore die. You," he gestured at Trowa, "help the soldier along. And feed him if it'll keep him moving faster. You," he looked at Wufei, "handle him. If he falls, fine. If not, the sword."

Wufei looked as though he was going to say something but simply turned away to look at the man climbing the cliff below. Trowa put his free hand on Wufei's shoulder for a moment.

"Be careful. He wears a mask, so you cannot be sure of his identity, but those who are hidden are the most dangerous."

"Yes," Wufei's expression hardened. "But if the mask conceals the face I know, there is no more dangerous man than I."

"I'm waiting!" G shouted.

The two shared a look and a nod, and Trowa set off after G, pulling Heero along.

Wufei settled down to wait.

-==OOO==-

"_...'Do I need to make it clear that your job is at stake!?' G was yelling now, and his anger caused him to sway, and Wufei nearly missed a step. But Trowa yanked on one of the ropes at just the right time for him to right himself..._"

"Oh, he's _really_ annoying. Somebody's going to kill him, right? 'Cause they should!"

"Have you been talking to that braided maniac...I mean, your other uncle, again?"

"Maybe."

"I'm sure your father wouldn't like to hear you talk that way, but as it happens, I agree with you."

"Does Wufei throw him off the cliff? He probably should!"

"Listen and you'll find out..."


	4. The Masters Duel

This one was SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE.

Enjoy!

* * *

Wufei had been meditating long enough in his estimation, so he rose to look over the edge of the cliff once again. He couldn't help the relief he felt to see that the man in black still climbing, and having made some good progress, though he was not yet within reach of the top. At this distance, he could make out nothing of the man's features beneath the black mask, but a long braid, chestnut and thick, swung from beneath the black wrapping covering his head.

"It seems rather slow going," Wufei commented, loud enough to be heard.

"No kidding," grunted back the man. "Would it kill you to leave me alone so I don't smash my head open back down there?"

"Sorry," Wufei was genuinely abashed. "I only meant to offer encouragement."

"If you wanna help me get out of this, you could find something productive to do. There anymore rope up there? Make use of that. Or leave me alone."

Wufei considered the rude words but let them pass. Honestly, the man was more than a little busy. He could be forgiven for terseness. Instead, he replied, "I do have rope I can offer you, but the fact that I am merely waiting for you to reach the top to kill you may not make you inclined to trust me."

"Um...no, probably not."

"I promise I will not try to kill you until you reach the top," Wufei offered.

"Thanks, but I'll just get there on my own, okay?"

"I could give you my word as a warrior."

"No good," the man grunted as a piece of the cliff broke free beneath one foot and he had to scramble to keep his hold. "I've known too many warriors who don't know one word from another."

Wufei drew himself up, even though the man in black beneath him could not see the salute for what it was. "I swear on the legacy and honor of my kin, the Long Clan, that you will reach the top alive, or may my ancestors shame and punish my bloodline for all time."

The man in black looked up, eyes piercing. "Throw me the rope."

Wufei gathered what remained of the rope from the anchor of his elaborate setup and unwound it as far as he dared. Then he brought it back to the edge and lowered it carefully. Between the two of them, the man in black was soon at the top, but he had only gotten his boots under him when he moved to draw a blade.

"Wait. I am honor-bound to duel you, but we can wait until you are ready." Wufei raised his hands placatingly.

"Thanks for that," the stranger nodded shortly, making his way to a low rock and dumping out stones from his socks. "Why are you bound to duel me, anyway? I've got better stuff to do, if you don't mind."

"I'm afraid I do mind," Wufei closed his eyes. "It is nothing to do with you. I am under contract to serve the man who led us here, and he has ordered that you not be permitted to interfere."

"Ah. Well, I could tell you that I have no plans to interfere but that would be a pretty bad lie and I don't lie. Thanks for being a good sport about the rope, though." He began stretching his arms and shoulders thoroughly.

"I do not mean to pry," Wufei said after a moment, "but if I may ask, do you happen to have six fingers on your right hand?"

The man in black wordlessly held up a right hand of five fingers. "Do you always begin conversations this way? That's new, even for me."

"My clan was slaughtered by a man with six fingers. I would know his face if I saw him again, but it becomes tedious to attempt to describe him over and over when I could simply look at your hand. Your hair-color isn't quite right anyway, but some things do change with time."

"I guess." But the stranger moved aside to make space and gestured, and Wufei found himself settling in beside the man he intended to kill. "So your whole clan...? I'm sorry."

"The Long Clan was known throughout the land for power, prosperity, and honor. We forged the greatest weapons known to man, carried the secrets of the ancient magicians, and lent our skills to noble causes. We had many enemies, and many allies. And to our great suffering, we failed to distinguish one from the other."

He drew his _dao_ and held it out. "This was my father's sword. It was to be passed to me on my day of claiming manhood, but the first blood it tasted that day was his. The six-fingered man and his allies attacked our home while we were celebrating, and by tradition only I carried a true blade that day. I defended my father, my Clan, with all the skill I had, but it was not enough. I never knew why the six-fingered man came or what he wanted, only that it meant all our deaths. When the sun set, only I was still alive, and only barely."

"How old were you?" the man in black asked softly.

"I was eleven. I was the youngest man of the Clan, and I swore on that day that I would dedicate my life to achieving vengeance for my people. So the next time I find that coward, I will not fail. I will face him as a man, and he will perish on my blade as my father did. I will look in his eyes and tell him 'I am Chang Wufei, of the Long Clan. You killed my people. Prepare to die.'"

"And...you've done nothing but prepare yourself for that day since then?"

"Well, there's only so much preparing you can do before the time comes to actually fight your battle," Wufei shook his head, "and after more than ten years, I am beginning to wonder if I will ever find him. I took the job with G to gain passage to these lands in the hope of uncovering some trace of him to follow. I hope you understand I am not sympathetic to G's cause."

"No, I can understand that," the man in black seemed to shake himself and rose. "I hope you find the guy someday. He seems like the kind of person who would be improved with some steel through the throat." He quirked a sudden smile.

"Are you prepared, then?"

"Whether I am or not, you've been way more than fair. And I'm on a schedule here." He drew the blade at his hip.

Wufei closed his grip on his sword with regret. "You seem a strong man, and were I not honor-bound to defeat you I would regard you cordially. I am sorry to kill you."

"You're strong, too, and if I weren't in a hurry I'd offer to help you out on your little quest. I'm sorry to die."

Their eyes met and a spark of challenge flashed between them.

Wufei took his stance. "Begin."

Wufei expected the usual duel one-on-one against a Western swordsman, even an excellent one. They had all studied the same masters and all approached battle in the same way. Wufei had done his own studying in the time he had been away from home, and he knew the exact strategies these Westerners would employ against him in this scenario: Bonetti's defense, Thibault, Capo Ferro, Agrippa. They were difficult strategies, the kind only true masters would employ, but they were at least predictable.

The man in black turned out to be anything but.

First of all, the man would not stay _still_. He would block one of Wufei's attacks, but rather than settling into a stance to return the blow, he would spin away, evading and dodging, the braid floating behind him like a dance partner. But when his endless movement carried him within range of Wufei's blade, _then_ the real swordsman emerged from the folds of a fierce, wild smile. These were not the strategies of the Western masters.

"You are wonderful," he found himself admitting as he was backed neatly into a corner.

"Thank you. I've worked hard to become so."

"I admit that you are better than I am," Wufei felt dark satisfaction seep into his heart.

"Then why are you smiling?"

"Because I know something you don't know. I am not left-handed, and I am not a classical swordsman!"

In one move, Wufei moved the _dao_ to his right hand. Breaking away from the man in black for a moment, he adjusted his stance and fell into the dragon position. He had been dueling as a Westerner, but now he was in his element, embedded in the fire of his people, his tradition. Eastern sword-fighting was different in every way, but most particularly in its speed.

Like lightning he attacked.

"You are amazing," the man in black breathed as he narrowly evaded having his chest impaled.

"I ought to be after giving my life to this," Wufei returned with pride. He sliced so close to the man that a few strands of brown hair slipped from the swinging braid.

"But there's something I should tell you," the man in black managed as he tucked one foot into what had probably once been a wall and was long collapsed, leveraging himself upwards and momentarily out of range in an elegant leap. He landed comfortably on top of the rock formation, towering above his opponent.

"What's that?"

"I'm not left-handed either, and I am also not a classical swordsman."

The man in black switched hands and swung his sword in a broad arc. For the first time Wufei recognized it – it was not a Western sword at all, but a _talwar_, a sabre with a curved blade. He absently wondered how he had failed to notice it before, especially considering he had sat next to it, not to mention having blocked its attacks many times. It was an unacceptable lapse, but he had no more time to consider it for the man in black leaped at him once more.

The man in black returned to the level ground and twisted his body, taking up a position more reminiscent of the Far East than anything Wufei had seen in years. With joy at combat with a true and honorable opponent, he met the flashing blade with all his power. But after a few strikes, he realized this was not a fight he could win. Not because the man in black was more skilled – they were probably comparable – but because he was _invested_ in the fight. Wufei was battling because a man he did not respect had given him a distasteful order. Whatever the man in black wanted with the prince's betrothed, it went much deeper.

In the end, Wufei was wise enough to recognize that his will was simply not great enough to succeed.

A moment after that realization, the man in black struck his _dao_ from his hand and it spun away across the stones, though thankfully not over the cliff.

"Who are you?" he asked in sudden astonishment. He had not been so neatly disarmed in years.

"It doesn't matter," the masked man replied.

"I must know."

"Perhaps some other time," and there was a wry smile there. "But what to do with you now?"

"Kill me quickly. You have defeated me with honor." Wufei dropped to his knees and dipped his head down low. "It is your right."

"No," and the voice that spoke was oddly soft. "No, I don't kill unless I have to. Besides you have something worth living for. But also I can't let you follow me from here."

Wufei hissed in surprise at a sting in his shoulder and the world swam with blackness. As he felt himself crumbling to the ground, he heard the voice above him say, "Please understand that I hold you in the highest respect, Chang Wufei. May you find the vengeance you seek."

And the world vanished.

-==OOO==-

"...'_I'm not left-handed either, and I am also not a classical swordsman_.'"

"Oh good!"

"Good?"

"I don't want him to lose!"

"No? Why not?"

"'Cause he's obviously the good guy, silly. And even if G is the only _real_ bad guy, I still want him to win!"

"Do you want to hear how the fight ends or not?"

"Yes sir."

"Good girl. Now be quiet."


	5. The Next Challenger

Again, had to put a few twists on this part of the story, but I like how it came out. I hope you agree!

Enjoy!

* * *

Trowa was just finishing repacking the belt-pouch in which he had carried their food when movement caught his attention. A glance to the side told him that G had not noticed anything amiss, but their prisoner had.

"G," Trowa said, lifting his chin in the direction of the path down which they had come.

The path down which a masked man in black, brown braid flapping, was running after them.

G snorted in anger. He reached for the length of chain bound to Heero's manacles. "I'll go on ahead. Catch up to us quickly."

"What do I do?" Trowa leaned against a nearby boulder, eyebrow raised curiously.

"Finish him! Your way!"

"And which way is that?" Trowa asked, a hard glint in his eyes.

"You've got blades of your own!" G sneered. "As soon as his head is in view, _use them_!"

G turned and started to scurry up the path. For a moment, the prisoner locked eyes with Trowa, and a sort of understanding passed between them. Trowa knew that the man they had kidnapped was a soldier and a consummate warrior. And both of them were acutely aware that, even chained as he was, Heero Yuy could probably escape from and defeat G if he wished it, and he would get his chance once Trowa was out of sight. But the words he had spoken back on the boat floated to Trowa's mind and he remembered – Heero Yuy _wanted_ to die. The soldier was not resisting not because he was helpless, but because he and G had the same goal in mind.

The goal that would only be accomplished if Trowa destroyed the man in black who pursued them.

"Apparently," Trowa mused to himself as G dragged Heero along, "my way is not very sportsmanlike."

He had several minutes in which to think as the man in black made his way up the steep hill, so by the time the moment had come, his decision was made. The man in black rounded the last bend in the path and approached where they had stopped for lunch. As if perceiving the danger, he slowed down, inching forward carefully between the boulders and scraggly trees.

A brush of air was the only warning, and the man in black stepped back quickly to evade the dagger thrown at him.

"I did that on purpose," Trowa announced, showing himself by leaping to stand on top of one of the taller boulders. "I don't have to miss."

"I believe you," the man in black shook his head, obviously unsettled. "So what happens now?"

"First, a question." Trowa dropped to a crouch on the boulder, drawing another of his daggers and holding it tightly between his fingers. "Is Chang Wufei still alive?"

The man in black looked up at him and squared his shoulders. "Yes."

"Good," Trowa nodded, believing him. "Because otherwise this would be over." He smiled a little, and it was not a nice smile. But it was the real truth – if this man had killed Wufei, he would never take another step. There was no blood on the black clothing, though, and no guile in his actions.

"The fact that it isn't suggests you have something else in mind?"

"Why are you chasing us?" Trowa returned. The man in black frowned.

"That's none of your business, buddy."

"Well, the soldier you want has a death wish, so if you want him alive you're going to have to fight G as well as him. If you want to kidnap him, though, he's easy enough to manage." Here Trowa smiled mockingly. But he was watching closely. He wanted to know something about this opponent before there was no going back.

"It's _none of your business_," the man said, voice icy cold. "Look, are you just fiddling around with me or what?"

"I hate for people to die for no reason," Trowa answered.

"Why do you have to kill me, anyway?" the man in black asked. "Wufei said he was working for G just for convenience. Maybe we shouldn't be fighting at all." Suddenly he smiled broadly under the mask, grinning brightly. "You just say you never saw me and I'll go on my merry way, okay?"

"No," Trowa said, "but I'm not going to fight you, either. If you survive, you can continue as you wish."

"Survive what?"

"I have five more daggers," Trowa held them up. "If you beat Wufei, I'll never defeat you one-on-one with a sword, but this is my skill. Evade all five and you're free to go."

"And if I fail?"

"You'll be dead," Trowa shrugged. "Like I said, I don't have to miss."

The man in black looked at the area in which the confrontation was taking place – it was something of a natural amphitheater ringed by huge boulders, with many scattered about on the ground as well as logs and fallen trees, and Trowa was perched on one of the highest. "I think the odds are slightly in your favor," he commented lightly.

"It's not my fault we're meeting here. I can't help that the terrain lends me a natural advantage." Trowa's smile this time was more predatory than anything else. "Let's go."

The man in black rolled to the side, expecting a dagger, but Trowa held back, waiting. The moment the man stopped moving, trying to quickly gain his bearings, only then did he let one fly. The man in black must have spotted it at the last moment, for he leaped just out of the way.

"You're quick," Trowa commented.

"And a good thing, too." With that, the man dove for a nearby boulder that jutted out into the area a bit. It was a smart move – Trowa would have to give up his position or else wait him out.

Trowa jumped from one boulder to the next, light as a cat. He was in midair when he saw the flash of black cloth and threw the second dagger. This one clanged off a fist-sized rock the man had picked up and thrown at just the right instant. Trowa landed on the ground and made a running leap forward, flinging himself into the wind. High above the ground, he flipped so he was upside down and sent the the third dagger towards his target.

The man in black must have thumped his back against a nearby rock quite hard given the pained sound he made, but the dagger landed harmlessly in the dirt nearby.

"Why are you wearing that mask?" Trowa asked as he landed easily. "Were you burned by acid or something?"

"No, it's just really comfortable," the man in black actually laughed. "I think everybody should try wearing one sometime."

"Hmm." Trowa tightened his grip on his last two daggers. He had to make them count – or else decide right now not to.

Wufei's sense of honor was the clearest memory Trowa possessed. Wufei must have fought their battle to the end. He could do no less. Without any warning, Trowa threw the fourth dagger at blistering speed. He ducked around one of the rocks that separated them and raised his arm to throw the last.

Only to find it caught and immobile behind him.

Trowa turned to see that his right sleeve was pinned to the trunk of the tree that had been behind him with one of his own daggers. His eyes widened and he looked back at the man in black. The man must have caught that fourth dagger and turned it around against him with almost no time to spare at all.

"Thanks for not killing me right off," the man in black shrugged. "I've got to go now, but I'll return the favor, all right?"

Trowa felt a sharp sting on his thigh and the world swam. He was aware of himself being unpinned from the tree and realized the man in black was lying him down, easing him to the ground with surprising care.

"If you see Chang Wufei, tell him it's not his fault, or yours, that I beat you. You both fought well. I've just got something else I have to do before I can let anybody kill me."

The familiar shape of one of his daggers was pressed into his left hand as he began to surrender to the warm stupor that had claimed him.

"Don't be afraid to not-miss again. It suits you better."

-==OOO==-

"..._Trowa knew that the man they had kidnapped was a soldier and a consummate warrior. And both of them were acutely aware that, even chained as he was, Heero Yuy could probably escape from and defeat G if he wished it, and he would get his chance once Trowa was out of sight. But the words he had spoken back on the boat floated to Trowa's mind and he remembered – Heero Yuy _wanted_ to die. The soldier was not resisting not because he was helpless, but because he and G had the same goal in mind_..."

"Isn't he ever going to actually _do_ anything?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, mostly Heero's just getting carted around by people and he doesn't seem to care about anything. He's this big warrior and he's being led around like a dog on a leash. Isn't he, you know, stronger than that?"

"Not right now he isn't, little one. Not yet."

"Will he _ever_ do anything?"

"Stop interrupting if you want to find out."

"Sorry."


	6. A Battle of Wits

Yup, time for the most quoted scene from this movie amongst my group of friends.

Enjoy!

* * *

Heero shifted slightly, angling for a less uncomfortable position. As a soldier, he could endure practically any hardship it was true, but he was also beyond caring about his warrior's pride at this point. Besides, the rock digging into his side was poking into a long scrape he'd gotten while being hauled up the cliff earlier. Warrior or not, it hurt.

"Stop your squirming," G warned, the small boot-knife pointed at him threateningly. "If you make a sound or a move even a little, I'll blindfold you and kill you so fast you'll still see the spots of the sun in your eyes."

Heero snorted. G was certainly greedy and ambitious, and arrogant, but he was not very intimidating. A real threat shouldn't sound so...picturesque. Or _nonsensical_. See spots when blindfolded? Moron. But he did hold still, mostly because even if he didn't care if he died, he was at least vaguely interested in the outcome of the next encounter. The mysterious person who had been following them had apparently beaten Trowa as well as Wufei now. Heero was looking forward to somebody putting G in his place.

He didn't have to wait long. The man in black appeared over the hill and began to approach. Heero felt the blade at his throat but he did not even flinch.

"So it is down to you, and it is down to me. If you wish him dead, by all means, keep moving closer."

The man in black took a few slow steps forward. From his angle, Heero struggled to see more than the legs and the braid that swung behind, but he could at least tell that the man had his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. "Let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain. You're trying to kidnap what I've rightfully stolen," G boasted. Heero refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Can we just talk about it?" the man asked. "Maybe agree on..."

"There will be no agreement," G interrupted, "and you're killing him." Heero felt the bite of the tip of the knife but still did not twitch away. A drop of something warm trickled awkwardly down his throat.

"Then what do you want?" the man in black asked impatiently.

"Nothing. We are at an impasse," G said. "I can't compete with you physically, and you're no match for my brains."

At this, the man threw back his head and laughed. "Okay, _brainiac_, let's just see about that. Up for a challenge?"

"For the soldier?" The man nodded once. "To the death?" He nodded again. "I accept!" G grinned eagerly. He set the dagger down well out of reach.

"Good," the man in black approached openly now and settled himself on the log on the other side of the boulder G had chosen as his table. From here, Heero could only see the side of the stranger's body and every now and again a flash of the mask, but otherwise he was stuck staring at rock. He made a sub-vocal grunt, which both other men ignored. "Pour the wine," the man in black said.

"Inhale this, but do not touch." The man in black passed something across the stone table in a small wooden vial. G took a deep sniff.

"I smell nothing."

"It's called iocane powder, and it's about as deadly as poisons get. You won't even know you didn't taste something before you're dead." Heero could hear the clinking of the two small goblets as the man took them from the table and did something with them. Then he heard them set on the stone once more. "Where is the poison? Pick a cup and drink, and I'll do the other one. Somebody walks away with the prize, and somebody doesn't walk away."

"But it's so simple! All I have to do is divine from what I know of you – are you the sort of man who would put the poison into his own goblet or his enemy's? Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me."

Heero closed his eyes, grateful no one was looking at his face. He was _already_ annoyed, and from what he had learned about G, the old man was only just getting started. He ignored the next few moments as G rambled inanely about a foreign land and trust and criminals and some kind of circular logic.

"Aw, stop stalling!" the man in black exclaimed, and Heero could hear the wicked smile in the words.

"You'd like to _think_ I'm stalling, wouldn't you?!" G returned hotly. "You've beaten my acrobat, which means you're exceptionally strong and fast, so you could have put the poison into your own goblet counting on your strength to save you. But you've also bested my swordsman, which means you must have studied and in studying you would have learned that man is mortal so you would have put the poison as far away from yourself as possible!"

"You're trying to trick me into giving away the surprise ending," the man in black said in a sing-song voice. "It ain't gonna work, you know."

"It _has_ worked! You've given _everything_ away!"

"Good. Then pick and we'll drink!"

"I will, and I choose...this one." Heero twisted enough to see G reach across the table to take the cup from in front of the man in black. "Drink the other, if you dare."

"You got it," the man replied, sounding relatively calm. There was a tense moment of silence.

"Well, nice drinking with you," the man in black stood. "I'll see you around, though."

"No! I can't have lost!" G exclaimed. "I know I guessed correctly!"

"Um, not really. See you never!"

Heero became aware of a sudden sputtering, rattling noise, which he instantly recognized as the sound a person makes as they begin to die and their throat stops working. A moment later, a heavy weight tipped onto him.

"Sorry about that!" the man in black stepped around the rock and tipped G's body off him. He noted immediately that the chain from Heero's manacles had been secured around his ankles, and he unwrapped it quickly. He pulled Heero to his feet and hustled him away from the body, but left him for a moment to go search G's coat for the keys to the chains.

"It was in your cup the whole time?" Heero found himself asking.

"Nope!" Heero looked up in surprise at the smile and cheerful tone. "Never put the stuff in the cups to begin with. There's no telling with a guy like that if they will try to pull something like switching your cups or some other trick."

"Then how?"

"Not all poison comes in a drink," the man in black replied with cold logic, returning to his search of the body. He sat up in triumph with the keys dangling from a long finger. "A smart guy would have realized that drinking closes the eyes and wine dulls the senses. He let his guard down for a moment, and that was all I needed."

"I see," Heero held out his wrists.

"Not yet," the man in black shook his head, pocketing the keys and grabbing for the end of the chain. "Let's get away from here first. I think your prince and his little army isn't far behind us now and I didn't bring my royal manners."

Heero found himself following, no more sure why he wasn't fighting back than he knew why he hadn't resisted G except that he really had nothing better to do. He was caught between two forces now, the man in black and Prince Zechs. And honestly? Neither side mattered to him at all. If he married Zechs, if the man in black killed him, or even if he was sold into slavery or ransomed – it was all the same to Heero: death or servitude or a crown were the same painful toil of a life he no longer wanted.

-==OOO==-

"..._Now, a clever man would put the poison into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me_..."

"Was that supposed to make sense?"

"Not really."

"Oh. Okay then."


	7. Truths

It's going to be a crazy weekend, complete with probably two extra trips into the office, so here's the chapter a trifle early. If you all think you're going to die at the end of this pretty hefty cliffhanger, send me a review or a note and maybe I can be convinced to put up chapter 8 sooner than next Saturday!

Enjoy!

* * *

They were several miles away when the man in black finally stopped, dropping his hold on Heero's chain and digging in a pocket. "Guess this is as good a time as any," he shrugged, holding up the key.

Heero shrugged too, but was just as grateful to be free of the heavy manacles. He rolled his shoulders once, stretching the tight muscles. He didn't bother to look up at the man in black as he asked, "What happens now? Are you going to kill me like they were?"

"Kill you? No, that wasn't the plan," but he seemed taken aback by it.

"Money then? Ransom? I'm sure Prince Zechs could have plenty of gold for you if that's what you want."

"Ha!" the man laughed. "I don't need his money. Plus, he's probably not running around with however many of his guards carrying bags of gold. I don't think he'd really stop to pay me before asking all those loyal men for my head." He tossed his braid.

"That's probably true," Heero allowed. "So if you don't want to kill me, and you don't want money, what do you want? You can't be here interfering just because you didn't have anything better to do."

"Would you believe me if I said that was the reason?" and he smirked.

"No."

"Too bad!" The man reached out and caught Heero's sleeve in a tight grip. "Enough of a rest. Time for more running."

The grip was like iron, and Heero saw no real reason to fight it, so he permitted himself to be drawn along for a few more miles at a run before they both stopped and sat, facing one another on some low grey rocks that overlooked a steep ravine that ran away into an ominous-looking forest. The man in black ignored Heero for a few moments, pulling out something from his belt-pouch.

It was a compass.

"Where are we going?" Heero asked as his eyes narrowed. A new suspicion began to grow in his mind.

"My ship isn't far. Docked on the other side of this peninsula. I think we can avoid the forest if we stay up here, though we'll have another long climb ahead of us to get to the sea. Up for it?"

"Why would we be going to your ship?" Heero asked.

"Because that's where all my stuff is?" the man in black shrugged. "Where did you think we would go? Oz? I bet they'd be _thrilled_ to see you, Sir Betrothed-of-Prince-Zechs. You do want to go home to your beloved once he quits following us around, don't you? Kinda need a ship for that."

"He's _not_ my beloved," Heero found himself snapping.

"No? You're the one who's marrying him."

"He's royalty. He gave me an order. I don't back down from my missions for the Peacecrafts no matter my feelings on it." Heero had to stop himself. This was not the time to pour out his own story when a more important one might be right in front of him.

"You're very dutiful," the man in black said, coldness creeping into his voice. "I bet you would give up anything you cared about if somebody gave you an order." He sneered. "Pitiful."

"How dare you?" Heero got to his feet. "You are laughing at my pain."

"_Life_ is pain, soldier," the man snapped, rising as well. "Anybody telling you anything else is a liar. And especially you, when you deal in war and death, should know better. People who kill, people like us, there's not a lot left when we give ourselves to that."

"You're a killer," Heero repeated. "A killer with a ship, who followed us from the sea. A killer who can beat a sword master and an acrobat. Who doesn't think twice about killing an opponent. And you wear a mask."

"Are we making lists?" the man replied, tipping his head. "You've got brown hair and a serious perspective problem."

"You are _Shinigami_," Heero breathed as a fire began to burn him from the inside. "Admit it!"

"With pride!" the masked man swept him a bow, braid flapping. "What can I do for you?"

"You can die. _Slowly_. Cut into a _thousand pieces_." Heero curled his hands into fists and wished for his familiar blade, left back with Winged, with which to exact the proper revenge. "I _will_ kill you."

"Any particular reason you hate me so much?"

"You killed Quatre, the only person I have ever loved. He was nothing but a valet," Heero shook with rage. "He couldn't defend himself and he would never have fought you! How could you kill him?!"

"I kill a lot of people," came the flippant reply.

Heero took a step forward but found himself dizzy and his feet uncertain. His knees weakened and he staggered to the nearest rock as his vision went white.

"Blond hair, blue eyes, set out in the summer a few years ago, right? I remember him. He died well, if it makes you feel better," Heero could hear the voice above him, and the mockery in the tone fueled his growing bloodlust as he fought to regain his sense of balance. "No bribe attempts or blubbering. He simply said 'please, I need to live.' He told me he was in love with a man who truly loved him in return, that he could not die and leave his true love waiting. He described a warrior of strength and honor and courage and integrity. I assume he meant you?"

Heero choked on a reply.

"Then you _definitely_ owe me one for killing him before he found out what you really are."

The attack of dizziness left Heero as if it had never been and he sprang at Shinigami with his hands curled into the claws of an animal. "_Why_?"

"He spoke of your _integrity_," the man in black held him at bay with the point of the sword he had quickly drawn. "But here you are, throwing your life away for _nothing_. Did his love truly mean so little to you that you would rather die than live with that feeling in your heart?"

"I _died_ the day he did!" Heero bellowed. "What difference does the rest of it make?"

"It makes _all_ the difference, Heero Yuy," Shinigami's body was taut and tense and the tip of the sword trembled slightly. "If you are nothing but a creature of death now, if you care nothing for life and love, then you must thank me for killing your precious Quatre before he learned that what he read in your heart was nothing but a pretty _lie_."

"I _never_ lied!" Heero roared. "I _never_ lied to Quatre! I will feel nothing for the rest of my days because there is nothing to feel _with_ – he _was_ my heart and he is _gone_!"

Heedless of the blade, Heero charged. If Shinigami cut him down with the same sword that had taken Quatre, so be it; it would be fitting, at least. He let the sword slice along his left sleeve while he knocked it aside, bringing around his right hand in a wicked punch to the side of the head that Shinigami did not block. The sword clattered to the ground and Heero spun with a sharp kick, knocking Shinigami to his knees. He hefted the sword and considered it.

"You killed the only light and love I will _ever_ know and left me with nothing but battles and duty and missions," Heero growled, stamping hard on the back upraised to him. "It will be _your_ body as well as mine Zechs finds, and your blood will pave the way to my peace. When I have watched you die, I will follow you into darkness and hunt you in the afterlife, and only a word from Quatre will save you!"

"Stop it!" came a cry, and Heero lifted his head to see another figure in black racing towards him from somewhere up the hill. "Stop it, Heero!"

"More blood to spill," Heero smiled darkly. "Bring as many as you wish You call yourself a God of Death, but you know _nothing_ about it until you know what it means for your life to die while your body survives." He glanced down the steep ravine nearby and kicked viciously into the side of the still-crouching Shinigami. "Your lifeless corpses will be my pyre, and I will be free of this pain _you_ have brought to me." With his foot still lodged in Shinigami's stomach, he swept his leg out, and the figure in black was away, rolling down the hill like a limp rag doll.

But a voice floated up, eerily clear in the echoing valley. "_Ninmu ryokai_…"

"You _baka_!" A fist slammed into Heero's stomach and he looked up into furious, violet eyes. "_I'm_ Shinigami! That was _Quatre_!"

-==OOO==-

"..._But a voice floated up, eerily clear in the echoing valley. 'Ninmu ryokai__'_…"

"Oh no!"

"Don't cry, little one. It will be all right."

"Promise?"

"Well, it will be _mostly_ all right. Just listen."


	8. Love Returned

Nothing I can say is better than what the boys will say.

Enjoy!

* * *

Heero felt like his mind had stuttered to a halt. He was looking at a twin of the person he'd just thrown down the ravine. The same braid hung out of a black head-covering, and this person wore the same black clothing and mask and the same sword at the hip as the one Heero held. But his face was creased in a rage mirrored only by Heero's own.

And his eyes were violet.

Heero looked over the edge of the ravine. What color were the eyes of that person? He wasn't sure he'd ever seen clearly. _How could he have missed it_?

"Look," the person at his side shook him, gripping his collar tightly. "You've got two choices, buddy. Either you go after him willingly or I'm going to throw you down there myself. I told him I wouldn't let you get hurt, but I'm going to bend those rules if I have to!" Heero stared at him dumbly and he shook his head in disgust. "If this is what having a true love is like, count me out! And here Cat made it seem so great."

"Cat? ...Quatre?" Heero finally managed.

"Oh, good, you're not a _total_ moron. Now get down there after him or I _swear_ I will _show_ you why they call me Shinigami!"

Shinigami, the real one, shoved at Heero's shoulder, and this time Heero gave himself to the fall that awaited him. Where Quatre – if it really was Quatre, _could it really be Quatre?_ – had tumbled down the hill brokenly and out of control, he slid deliberately, keeping his feet under him and his eyes at the dark shape so far below. Heero noticed that Shinigami was running down the hill with the swiftness of a deer, and the same lithe grace.

Something on the ground caught Heero's eye and he reached out to grab it on instinct. It was a chestnut braid like the one that had spilled from beneath the dark head-covering. But here it was, loose in his hands, a long tail of hair affixed to a piece of black material. And below...a spot of gold in the fading light of afternoon flashed against the rocks.

Heero's feet froze and he toppled forward, sliding on his chin and rolling uncontrollably. He actually slid past where the black-clad form had stopped, and a strike to the head left him dizzy again.

And then there was a familiar hand on his forehead and a voice he remembered so well. "Heero? Heero, are you all right?"

"Quatre," Heero blinked his eyes and the vague outline before him resolved into Quatre. The golden hair, the blue-green eyes, the warm smile. Maskless, for that too had been lost in the tumble. The hand, not so pale as it had been five years before but still pale compared to Heero's own skin, moved gently against his cheek. "Quatre."

"I'm here. I'm real. Oh, Heero, I'm so sorry."

Emotion seized Heero's heart fiercely and he forced himself upright so quickly he nearly knocked his head into Quatre's chin. He grabbed at the thin shoulders and brought their faces so close they were breathing the same air. There were tears standing in Quatre's eyes, and Heero's heart cracked open. He bent his forehead until it rested on the bridge of Quatre's nose.

All he could do was breathe.

"Heero, I have so much to tell you, so much to explain," Quatre spoke urgently. His fingers moved feverishly, touching the cut on Heero's neck from G's blade, the slice along his arm from their skirmish, a bruise at his temple he had never even felt in his slide down the hill.

"You're alive," Heero whispered, like a prayer. His injuries' pain, his exhaustion, they vanished in the wonder of that truth. He looked a sorry sight, but his face was moon-bright with relief.

"I told you I would come back. Why did you give up hope?"

"Because you were _dead_," he answered with the grief of five years.

"Death cannot stop true love," Quatre smiled wetly, carding his fingers through Heero's unruly hair. "All it can do is delay it for a while."

"You have come...you did keep your promise after all. I will never doubt you again. I swear it."

"Oh, Heero," Quatre tipped his face up and placed a sweet kiss on his forehead. "There will never be a need. I will never leave you again."

"Okay. Yay and all that," came the voice of Shinigami, "but can you do this when we're out of the open? We're gonna have company soon."

"You're right," Quatre said, sitting back on his heels but taking Heero's hands. "I guess we're stuck with the Fire Swamp route, then. Sorry about that, Duo."

"Eh, don't sweat it, Cat," Shinigami shrugged, holding the sword Heero had taken from Quatre and had subsequently lost somewhere between being punched in the stomach and his trip down the hill, offering it hilt first. He had removed his own mask and it revealed a face that looked as if it were always laughing. "It wasn't exactly _your_ idea to throw yourself down here." He glared at Heero. "But I clocked him good, so we're even."

"Heero," Quatre said, smiling fondly as he took the sword back with one hand, squeezing Heero's with the other, "meet Duo. Also known as Shinigami, but more importantly, Duo is my friend."

"You are going to have to explain all of this," Heero said as he got to his feet, refusing to let go of the hand he held. It was a lifeline, the only permanence that had ever mattered. If somebody wanted to part him from Quatre now, they would need an army and more courage than a dragon.

"I will. But let's get out of sight. I'd rather not explain this to Prince Zechs."

Quatre, Duo, and Heero raced along the bottom of the ravine. The forest looked far worse up close, its trees sickly brown and yellow, and the smell of sulfur and blood and ash permeated the air. The trio made it to the trees in time to peek out from behind spiny bushes at a line of horses silhouetted against the sky at the top of the ridge. A horn blew and they headed off.

"They won't dare come in here," Quatre said. "They'll have to go around if they want to intercept us."

"There's no reason to stick to the plan now, Cat," Duo said, leaning casually on a tree. "I can go on ahead and move Deathscythe and meet you someplace else, you know. They'll never bother with me even if they do see me. Which they won't."

"The plan?" Heero turned to Quatre, his heart still beating faster every time those eyes turned on him.

"To rescue you, of course." Quatre looked back at Duo. "No. The Fire Swamp is deadly and you know it. I'm not denigrating your skills, but we'll all be more likely to survive the next few hours if we stay together. Besides," and he blushed slightly, "I have a lot of story to tell, and I'm...a little distracted. I'd rather have you looking out for us still. As much as you're willing, anyway."

That won him a broad grin from Duo. "Hey, I did pretty good today. But you! I think you've mastered the Shinigami act. I've never seen you play it that well!"

"Okay," Heero tugged the hand he held and looked them both in the eye. "So your ship is at the other end of the Swamp? Then let's move. And while we move, _explain_." He turned his blazing gaze directly on Quatre. "Where have you been, how did you survive, _why are you friends with Shinigami_, and why the ruse?"

"Of course," and Quatre had the grace to look abashed while Duo threw his head back and laughed.

"He is _so_ your problem now, Kitty-Cat!"

Quatre flashed him a smile, and Heero felt his heart constrict. But before he could even identify the dark feeling for what it was, Quatre had spun in place and drawn their lips together in a searing kiss. Everything – the Fire Swamp, Duo, and the last vestiges of his uncertainty and jealousy – stopped mattering completely.

"Don't worry, love," Quatre whispered fiercely when he finally broke away. "My heart is yours, more than you know. Duo's been like a brother to me these last years, that's all."

"Cat ain't looked at anybody no matter how much we wanted him to," Duo added. "He's like a moth to the flame for you, Heero Yuy." And his laughing face sobered. "So you better appreciate what you've got, 'cause I've never seen anybody that loyal, and I've never seen Cat this happy."

Heero turned his eyes back to Quatre, whose face was turned to his and his expression encompassed all the joy of the rising sun and the soaring eagle. And Heero's heart felt a sudden rush of peace. More than the surprise, more than the reminder of grief, and more than the blazing connection, now at last he felt he could believe the reality of it. It wasn't in the fires of passion his love was truest – it was in the quiet shadows of the soul. And he could never have remembered the bright joy of Quatre that clearly without having him truly in front of him again.

Heero's heart lurched and steadied, and he felt whole as he had not been for five years.

A tiny noise sounded in the ground under their feet, and all three instinctively reacted, leaping backwards, each reaching out for the other two, to protect them or cling to them. The earth upon which they had stood only moments before erupted in flame that shot well over their heads before burning out a few moments later.

Heero looked to where his one hand was wrapped around Quatre's wrist and the other had tangled itself in Duo's black shirt. Quatre had reversed the grip and seized Heero's wrist as well, and had fastened a hand on Duo's forearm, and Duo had a hold of both of their shirts.

"Well," Duo said, releasing them and looking at the sparking embers that were the only legacy of the fountain of flame from nowhere, "that was exciting."

Heero and Quatre exchanged glances, and both smiled. They were too happy to laugh, but they could not smile enough.

"Let's go," Quatre said, drawing out his compass with the hand not still holding Heero tightly and reading it expertly. "I'm sure we'll learn all about the Fire Swamp as I try to explain everything."

They moved deeper into the dark trees, surrendering to all that was to come.

-==OOO==-

"...'_Okay. Yay and all that,' came the voice of Shinigami, 'but can you do this when we're out of the open. We're gonna have company soon_.'..."

"Way to ruin the mood, Shinigami!"

"What did you expect?"

"Good point. Please keep going."

"As you wish."


	9. Story in the Swamp

Time to mix movie with imagination. Moreso than usual, anyway.

Enjoy!

* * *

"When I left Sanc five years ago, the trader ship on which I took passage was attacked. The Deathscythe is a strong ship, and fast. We never stood a chance of escaping," Quatre said as they clambered over thick, sickly-looking vines. "We all knew that Shinigami, the God of Death, might well opt to kill us all on a whim, and he would definitely kill us all if we resisted. So we surrendered."

"Good start, that," Duo nodded sagely. He seemed more content to roam through the tree-branches above than on the forest floor where the other two kept having to regularly dodge random blasts of fire. "So much easier when people don't fight back." He grinned impudently at Quatre, who returned the expression.

"I had something to bargain with, so I bought the safety of the rest of my ship by offering myself to Shinigami in recompense. What I told you before, about describing a man of integrity, that was true," Quatre continued. "Duo decided he'd never had a valet, it sounded like a good story, and I was valuable cargo anyway, so he spared me."

"Remember what I used to say at night, Cat?"

"Yes. 'Good night, Kitty. Good work. Might kill you tomorrow, so sweet dreams!'" Quatre shook his head bemusedly. "It never really bothered me. I knew you didn't mean it."

"Kitty?" Heero asked, incredulous. Quatre turned to him, eyes laughing.

"That's...just how he is. Anyway," he moved on swiftly, "It was a fine time for me. I was learning to fence, fight, anything anyone would teach me. Duo and I eventually became friends."

"Plus you had more than a little to give me in return," Duo said, dangling upside down from a thick branch like a grinning spider. "Worked out good for both of us."

"Well, yes," Quatre acknowledged. "But it was a few years before we could make use of it."

"Okay, enough!" Heero stopped and crossed his arms. "Quatre, you're being cryptic. What, exactly, did you bargain with? You had nothing when you left Sanc."

"Sit down," Quatre sighed. "It's a longer story than you think."

Heero found a moss-covered log and settled himself while Quatre began to pace nervously before him. Duo sat at the other end of the log, face still and serious for once.

"My full name is Quatre Raberba Winner," Quatre said after a moment. "You won't recognize it because you've never gone far enough to the East, but Duo had. I am, or was, anyway, the exiled son of, well, not a king exactly, but something close to that in our lands. I was the heir once, but I left Weiland long ago. That's how I ended up your valet. And no," he looked up with a forbidding expression, "that's not part of this story. Maybe another day."

Heero nodded.

"When Shinigami – Duo – attacked the ship I was on, I told him my name so he could take me hostage. It was a risk, because there was no telling if my father would give him anything for me since we didn't part on good terms. But it bought me a chance, and in the end, it didn't matter. By the time we reached my ancestral lands, Duo had decided he liked me too well to kill me, and it turned out that my father had died anyway."

"Quatre," Heero breathed, reaching out with a hand, "I'm so sorry." He remembered all in a rush the pain of losing his own father so many years ago.

Quatre took the hand and smiled a little wetly. "Thank you. It's all right. I've had lots of time to get used to the idea. Anyway. My eldest sister and her husband had succeeded him, even though technically the title should have fallen to me, but I wasn't there to accept it. Iria had always been kind to me, so she was willing to compensate Duo fairly for my safe return as well as lifting the exile decree against me."

"Not to mention that she shouted at me," Duo said ruefully. "Since by the time we turned up, Cat was half pirate himself! She was _mad_."

"But she paid, so my debt to Duo was cleared," Quatre continued. "I didn't want to take her place in our homeland, though. All I wanted was to come back for you, Heero," he looked at him blazingly, "but I couldn't. Not yet."

"Why not?" Heero found himself asking.

"By then, I'd been gone more than two years, and all I had to show for it was a few fencing tricks and a good set of sea legs. I hadn't mastered myself and I hadn't yet become your equal." Quatre met his eyes unflinchingly. "I didn't yet have anything to offer you that was worthy. I had no skill, no honor."

"Quatre," Heero got to his feet, tugging on the hand he held to bring him closer, "I didn't need _any_ of that. I never wanted that from you. And I...I would have wanted to know you were alive."

"I didn't know you had been told I was dead, though I should have guessed," Quatre hung his head. "I'm so sorry for that part. But I just couldn't have come back to you with nothing. I told you when we parted that I needed to find a place for myself so that I could stand at your side as an equal. It took me two more years to find it."

"And what did you find?"

"_Besides_ a whole lot of treasure from looted ships and your family?" Duo put in. "Not to mention all those guys?"

"The Maganacs are a group of men who traditionally serve as royal guards and allies for my family line," Quatre explained. "When they learned I was alive, they decided to split into two groups – one to stay with Iria in Weiland and one to come with me. So now I have something of an entourage, and Duo has a well-crewed ship. And yes, I did acquire quite a bit of inheritance as well as our takes from our adventures. But that isn't what I wanted."

The gleam in Quatre's eye told Heero what he meant. "You learned to fight."

"He was relentless," Duo commented cheerfully. "Me, the Maganac leader Rashid, anybody who could hold a weapon and some people who can't. Day and night it seemed like he trained with whoever he could talk into giving him the time. He's as good as me now, and better sometimes."

"Better?" Heero looked at the wicked curve to Duo's smile.

"Oh, yeah," the pirate's grin widened. "He's super smart, so he can usually take somebody down by out-thinking them, but that's not what I really mean. He's got a whole other kind of advantage when he bothers to use it. He says it isn't fair and he's all about being fair, but when he has reason to cheat..."

Suddenly the world spun and Heero was unbelievably dizzy. He staggered into Quatre, who caught him. Then, a moment later, the sensation disappeared. In it's place, he felt clarity, like the world stood out in sharp relief, every branch and blade of grass as defined as if he had gained the eyes of a falcon. This, too, faded. And then Heero felt himself begin to grow dizzy again, but this time from the overwhelming emotion that wrapped around him like falling into water. He was held and loved and cherished and the sense of it was infinite and unbreakable.

Quatre's words filtered into the haze in his mind. "_This_ is what I really am, Heero. Your people call us witches, but we are taught that sometimes there are those born that carry an unusual ability. I can sense and project feelings and intentions, and I can affect the mind to a certain extent as well. The people of Weiland tend towards simpler gifts, but my family is typically very strong. Of all my sisters, only I manifested empathy, and it seems I got all their potential as well as my own."

"The first time he showed me," Duo spoke into the warm cloud that embraced Heero, "I about passed out. I'd met a couple of travelers with weird little talents, but there's no empath stronger than Cat anywhere I've ever been."

"Quatre," Heero felt things ease away from him and the world was again as it always had been. But Quatre was looking at their feet.

"I fell in love with you when I was still untrained and uncontrolled. I could read your heart every minute of the day, Heero," he spoke softly. "I knew all the things you never said, never admitted to anyone. I couldn't return to you until I was certain I could stop myself from listening again if you didn't wish me to."

"Quatre..."

"You should have the choice, Heero," he said firmly. "I have no right to listen to your heart without permission. I couldn't stop myself before – it was like you were screaming at me all the time. Now I know how to close my heart to it, if you wish it. I didn't...I couldn't tell you the truth of myself until I could offer you full control, full insulation from my gift if needed."

"You would cut that part of yourself off, mute what you can hear, if I asked you to?"

"Yes, Heero," Quatre finally met his eyes once more. "You're a private person. I cannot do you the dishonor of not allowing you to keep your privacy even from me."

"Quatre, you're being foolish," Heero shook his head, beginning to smile. "Listen to my heart now and see what it tells you."

Quatre didn't even close his eyes, he just stilled for a moment before he smiled blindingly. Heero leaned in to kiss him, his own heart filling. His Quatre, his wonderful Quatre had wanted to be worthy of him, when Heero considered himself little more than a common soldier. But his Quatre had moved the earth, become a warrior, mastered a power beyond imagining, all so that he could give everything up if Heero asked it of him. If it were anyone else, Heero would have been very uneasy having his heart read. But it was Quatre – he had said it before when he thought he'd been speaking with Shinigami that Quatre _was_ his heart. There was no one else he wished to have it.

After a long moment of contentment, they parted. Quatre was flushed, and Duo winked at them, and Heero felt his ears redden slightly.

"So what happened? Why did you come back?"

"It was you," Quatre said. "Two days ago, we were sailing not far from Sanc and I suddenly knew something terrible had happened to you. I begged Duo to bring me here, to find out what had happened."

"Two days ago?" Heero thought. "Oh. Prince Zechs's tournament. The betrothal."

"I thought it was you being abducted, but same thing, I suppose. You were upset and I couldn't stand it. After we caught up with you on the water, I just followed you, and Duo followed me. You know the rest."

"Wait," Heero tipped his head. "How could you know I was in trouble? You were fathoms away."

"Heero," Quatre's whole face softened, "I will always know your heart. I truly finished mastering my gift after an intensive training a few months ago. Since then, I have always been aware of you, though this was the first time I could tell your feelings for what they were. Although now that we are together, I believe I shall always know what you feel, no matter the distance."

"It was scary," Duo piped up. "He keeled over right on the foredeck, clutching his chest and sweating like we'd been in the tropics again. Couldn't speak for an hour, and when he did it was just your name. He didn't need to do any begging – I was already putting up full sail in this direction before he got around to saying anything sensible."

"But why?" Heero asked.

Duo's eyes narrowed coldly. "Since the day I met him, Cat ain't asked me for anything but to spare lives not worth taking and to be myself. I owe him my life and my ship ten times over. And he's never ever been afraid of me. Name something I _won't_ do for him – it's a short list with one word on it. _Nothing_."

"Same goes for me," Quatre said softly even as he curled back into Heero's arms to be held. "I still owe him the debt of my life. And even after that, Duo gave me more than I can ever repay, and believe me, I've tried. So you're getting something I didn't anticipate in this bargain, I'm afraid, love."

"It's okay," Heero said reflexively. Then he thought about it. "No, it really is. I've been alone my whole life, Quatre, and I know that isn't a good thing. If you had a friend to keep you safe, then I owe him my life, too, because _you_ are my life. If you found safety, then I am safe too, because I am well if you are. If your friend will have me, I'll willingly join you in that debt you owe him." Heero looked over at the surprised flush on Duo's face.

"You got it, Hee-chan," he said after a moment's silence.

"Just get used to it," Quatre sighed. "He likes nicknames."

"I noticed."

"Everything all cleared up then?" Duo asked, rising. "We got the big story done."

"All but one thing – why did you pretend to be Shinigami when you came for me?" Heero asked, not releasing Quatre from his arms.

"That was my idea," Duo said. "Cat and I play that bait and switch a lot. He's good at pretending to be me, and with that empathy he can read people in a way I can only imagine. And I'm the best at hiding and sneaking the world has ever seen, so usually it works to make people think they're dealing with me while really I'm right behind them with a knife ready to stick in their backs. He can signal me if he wants me, and he can always tell what I want him to do."

"It was an advantage," Quatre added. "We were outnumbered and you were a prisoner. Also, if I had failed, Duo would have been there to save you in my place. We needed you and your captors to think I was Shinigami, not someone you recognized, to keep them off-balance."

"Your empathy...that's why I didn't notice your eyes. You made sure I didn't recognize you by bending my sight somehow," Heero realized.

Quatre nodded against him. "Yes, I tricked all of you for a while. I didn't want you to know it was me."

"But why?"

"I also didn't know if you still wanted me. Or if you had given up on living. If you had been dead inside, there would have been no hope for either of us. Your heart was so stonily empty when I found you, Heero. Also," he squirmed slightly, "I've made it a habit to pretend to be Shinigami completely, and I sort of got caught up in it. It's usually a good strategy!" he protested at the mockingly disapproving expression on Heero's face.

"You just get carried away," Duo nodded sagely.

"I am not surprised to learn you take to all things with dedication," Heero commented, "but do not fool me again."

"Of course not!"

Heero wondered if he should say anything about the cold deadness of his heart, to explain why he had been so willing to die, but felt the arms around him tighten. Of course Quatre could feel it. He probably understood Heero's heart better than he did.

"Any more questions, love?" Quatre finally stepped back fully and looked up into his eyes.

"No," Heero reached up and touched a hand to Quatre's cheek. "No, I think I'm satisfied now."

"Good!" Duo stretched. "Then let's get back to the plan. We're going to get to the Deathscythe and then you two can decide if you want to go back to Sanc and tell the Princess that she's out one betrothed brother, or we can just sail off into the sunset or to Weiland or wherever you want to go. I assume we want to keep avoiding Prince Pretty-Hair on the way."

"Sounds good," Heero nodded. He would be just as glad not to meet his betrothed again after all.

Quatre drew out the compass to check their direction before turning to continue. Duo sauntered to his feet to set off in the direction to which Quatre gestured.

And disappeared.

-==OOO==-

"...'_Name something I won't do for him – it's a short list with one word on it. Nothing_.'..."

"Um..."

"Yes?"

"That part...is it...?"

"Yes, I'd say that's the truth."

"No, I mean with you. With all of you. In real life."

"Obviously. And that goes for you, too, little one. We all carry that same short list for you."

"...I'm glad. It makes me feel safe."

"You _are_ safe, child, more than you could ever know."


	10. The Fire Swamp's Perils

Ha! I have to say, I think mine is more fun than the movie's version of these events. And, to me, it makes more sense. But that just might be the fact that it's the middle of the night and I've had my parents staying at my house for 3 days. That'll make anybody irrational. Or maybe that's just me.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Duo!"

Quatre was running before the end of Duo's braid had vanished. He'd never ever seen someone slip through the ground like it was water before, but that was undoubtedly what had just happened. And Duo wasn't coming up. The captain of Deathscythe could swim like a shark – if there was any way out of that odd white sand, he'd have already found it.

"Secure a vine and come after us!" Quatre cried out, flinging away his sword and belt-pouch.

"Quatre!" Heero drew up short with surprise.

"Trust me!" His gaze lingered less than a moment on Heero's wide eyes, before he took an enormous breath and threw himself into the sand.

The sand felt strange. The downwards pressure was powerful, drawing him deeper into what felt like a wide pool of thick, dry mud, if that was at all possible. It was so dry it felt hot on his skin, and the way the sand moved as it pulled him deeper and deeper felt like thousands of centipedes crawling across his body. And maybe there _were_ centipedes in this Fire Swamp quicksand. Who knew? Either way, it didn't matter. Quatre certainly wasn't going to open his eyes to find out.

As he let the sand pull him down, he reached out with his mind.

Duo was there, a little below and to Quatre's left. The blond could sense Duo's fear and struggle, and the rising panic as he began to run out of air. He stretched out towards that familiar heart, sending ahead of himself a sharp lance of reassurance and calm. The sharpness of the emotion would signal to Duo that it was not his own but rather coming from an external source, but it would calm him all the same. He sensed Duo stop his furious struggle and conserve his energy.

The trust that rolled from Duo's heart, trust and certainty that he was safe because he knew Quatre was coming for him would have stopped Quatre cold in pleased surprise if the situation hadn't been so serious.

Instead, Quatre kicked out with his legs, stretching. His hand closed on material and he quickly pulled hard, drawing Duo's body close to himself. He hooked one arm around Duo's chest, and Duo twisted to curl his arms around Quatre's stomach. Duo's hands were shaking.

Quatre cast his mind upwards, now seeking Heero. That connection was infinitely more clear – he could almost hear Heero's thoughts as the soldier finished knotting a vine around his waist and dove into the sand head-first. Heero's heart was tight with fear, with the impending terror of renewed grief, and with a determination that could crack the world in two. Heero would break his arms off with his teeth rather than leave Quatre in that sandy hole. _He_ _would_ _not lose him again_.

Quatre reached for Heero's heart and _pulled_. There was surprise and then swift understanding and Heero began to fight to angle himself to where he knew Quatre was waiting for him. Quatre had trusted, had _known_ that Heero would come after him. He was not disappointed as Heero twisted against the quicksand's pressure to bring himself closer to the beacon that guided him.

Quatre concentrated and was able to find the hand seeking his own. His lungs burned and he could feel Duo starting to choke against his chest. He yanked with a sharp urgency and Heero understood again. Heero guided his hand to the vine still knotted around him. Quatre began to haul himself upwards, hand over hand, aware of Heero following after him. Duo clutched Quatre's stomach tightly, but the grip was slackening. Quatre felt his own head swimming, and with each hand-span he climbed, his fingers became less sure as he fought not to try to breathe airless sand.

Until his hand reached up and felt no sand.

In a burst of adrenaline and hope, Quatre yanked and drew his head above the quicksand, gasping and coughing. He held on with one hand and with the other hauled on Duo's shirt, dragging his head up into the air, where the pirate started to retch. But they couldn't stay in the pool of sand, and Heero was still below them, so Quatre managed, with what felt like the last of his strength, to lunge for the root of a tree at the edge of the treacherous ground. He yanked Duo closer to it, pulling up the rope as he did so. The combined weight of Duo and Heero, plus the pressure of the sand, made his arms ache, but he succeeded in getting Duo close enough to the tree to be able to hold on himself. One more hard pull on the rope and Heero's head broke from the sand as well.

"Heero," Quatre coughed in a raspy, dry voice. He dropped the rope and offered a hand instead, and Heero closed his fingers around Quatre's wrist, nodding as he gasped and coughed. Quatre started to pull Heero as well, but his strength gave out and he almost let go of the tree in his exhaustion. But Heero was there already, reaching past him, kicking against the sand and getting enough purchase that he could reach the tree without help.

"Get Duo," Quatre managed, and coughed again. It was enough just holding on and keeping himself in the air now while the sand still swirled and clawed at him from below.

Heero nodded and pulled himself free of the sand entirely. He reached to where Duo was hyperventilating and retching in turns and grabbed him under the arms. With a smooth motion he lifted Duo clear and leaned him on the other side of the tree, safe on solid ground. Then he came back and held a hand to Quatre, who was grateful for the help. The blond wasn't sure he would have been able to pull himself out given that his arms felt like wet seaweed.

When Quatre was also clear, Heero plopped on the ground beside the other two, and all three of them focused on breathing shakily, coughing up sand and rubbing their eyes against the grit that clung to their faces for an indeterminate amount of time. Somewhere in the midst of it, Quatre moved and found Heero's hand as if by instinct, and he laced their fingers together.

"Knew you...would come," he coughed at last.

"Always, Quatre," Heero coughed back.

"That's...another one I owe you...Cat," Duo said, trying to smile. He dry-heaved again and took several deep breaths before saying, "Dunno anybody else who would find me in that."

Quatre looked around the tree and realized what Duo had noticed – the quicksand pit was many stride-lengths across, and the pressure within was not uniform. He was chilled at the idea of someone without empathy trying to swim around in that ghastly dry death in the hopes of stumbling upon the body of the person they sought by sheer luck. Only Quatre could have been able to locate Duo in that dark sea of endless sinking. And only Quatre could bring Heero to them both in time.

"Navigating the Fire Swamp was a bad idea," Quatre said, spitting out sand but grateful his throat no longer felt so very dry. "This is my fault."

"Oh, is this the part where," Heero coughed slightly, then smirked, "I'm supposed to moan about how we'll never get out alive and might as well die here? Because I could," he cleared his throat, "but I wouldn't really mean it."

"Yeah," Duo said, wiping his mouth. "If we hadn't come down here, we'd be up against that princey guy and his guards. I'll take fire and quicksand any day."

"Prince Zechs wouldn't have fought us," Heero shook his head.

"We don't know that," Quatre said softly.

"And what's some fire and sand anyway?" Duo grinned, smoothly intercepting the growing storm on Heero's brow. "We've got this thing figured out now. The fire is noisy and the sand is white. Pretty obvious once you know what you're looking for."

"What about the rats?" Heero asked. "Their size is legendary."

"Stupid superstition. I don't think they exist," Duo shook his head, getting into a crouch and finger-combing through the end of his braid to get the clumps of sand out.

"Oh yes they do," Quatre said, and the warning tone in his voice made them both look up.

Four rats, each the size of a small pony, were looking at them from a rough half-circle in front of them. Their yellow teeth glinted in the shadowy light, and they made snuffling, growling noises that were low and threatening. Their long tails whipped back and forth, and their noses quivered, their beady eyes staring at the three young men.

Heero, Duo, and Quatre exchanged a glance. Their back was to the quicksand, and none of them wanted to go back in there, so that left them forward, and thus a fight, as their only option. Quatre, moving his hand slowly, tapped his chest and nodded significantly. Duo and Heero nodded back.

Quatre stood and started to move forward at a near-glacial pace, his eyes never leaving the four giant rodents, but his path carrying him near to his discarded sword. After a few steps, the nearest rat seemed to gather into itself to charge, snarling. Quatre lashed out with his mind and heart, throwing all his force forward. He projected fear and intimidation with all the power he could muster, while simultaneously abandoning his slow pace and diving for the _talwar_. The four rats screamed as Quatre's empathy struck, but as they were not human or highly emotional creatures, the impact wasn't enough to stop them; it stunned them for a moment, but that was enough.

That instant of distraction was enough for Heero and Duo to get to their feet, Duo pulling out his own matching _talwar_. Heero reached to his hip, but of course his familiar sword was not there. But in a moment he found a sand-covered hilt pushed into his hands.

"Take it," Duo said, holding a fighting dagger in his other hand. "I got this."

And they launched into the fight.

Duo emerged from the thrill of battle a few moments later to take an appraising look at the others. Fending off a donkey-sized rodent with merely a dagger was a challenge that made Shinigami's blood pound darkly, but the look on Heero Yuy's face suggested Duo was not the only one finding some deadly joy in the battle. Heero wielded the foreign sword with grace, and it appeared he had already partially disabled his opponent. Duo blocked a lunge by his own rat by sticking the dagger into the thing's gums, looking around for Quatre.

He drew his breath in and shouted. "Hee-chan! To Quatre!"

Then he threw himself at the rodent with the full spirit of the God of Death singing within. This rat would die as fast as he was able to kill it, and if it held him up too long it would _suffer_.

Heero's head snapped up at the shout and he looked to Quatre, his heart skipping a beat. Quatre was on his back on the ground, and one of the rats was pinning him to the dirt with its teeth embedded in his left shoulder. The fourth of the rodents, wounded but still up, was circling around to come in for the kill. Quatre had lost his sword somewhere and was futilely trying to push the the gaping mouth away.

Heero _roared_. He would never remember slicing his own rat through the heart in one blow, just running towards his beloved, heart in his throat again. He managed to arrive at the same time as the charging rodent, slashing at its face to keep it from sinking any more teeth into Quatre. The rat hissed at him and bit for his hand but he struck it in the head, taking off an ear and part of its scalp.

Behind him, he heard Quatre cry out, but he couldn't look away, as badly as he wanted to, or they would both be lost. Instead, he charged the fourth rodent, diving at the last second to slit its throat open and spill most of the blood from its chest on the ground in his wake. Heero pushed the heavy thing off him in time to see Duo running forward.

He lifted his head and watched Quatre, who somehow had lodged his fingers in the creatures eyes, rolling over and over across the ground, dragging the huge creature with him as he twisted its head viciously. There was the shaking, spurting noise and a blast of fire erupted beside him. The rodent let out a shriek as the flames licked its body – and it finally opened its jaws enough for Quatre to slip free. The blond didn't even look up to where Duo and Heero were rushing towards him. He gathered his sword from where it had fallen and stalked back to the monster. With a strong blow, he severed its spine below the skull, leaving the carcass to burn.

Quatre turned to face the other two, his shirt torn half to pieces and his left shoulder bleeding badly from the deep wounds of the teeth. But there was a fierce anger in his eyes, a power of survival and strength that Heero had never known his love had possessed.

It was the spirit of a warrior. His Quatre _had_ become his true equal.

Heero wasn't sure if he was pleased at the courage and strength that he so respected, now that he could clearly see it or sorry that his gentle Quatre had ever known the shedding of blood that had made him thus. But either way, there was no going back now.

The three of them, blood-soaked, had stood against the Swamp and survived – together.

-==OOO==-

"...'_Oh, is this the part where,' Heero coughed slightly, then smirked, 'I'm supposed to moan about how we'll never get out alive and might as well die here? Because I could,' he cleared his throat, 'but I wouldn't really mean it._'..."

"'Cause he's not dumb!"

"What was that?"

"Quatre's being silly. Heero doesn't care where they are because they're together. And this isn't _nearly_ dangerous enough for it not to be worth it. Quatre's way tougher than any old Fire Swamp."

"Heero doesn't know that yet."

"Well he should!"

"Yes, you're very smart. Now hush."


	11. Confrontation

So, yes, I admit it – there is a quote in here that comes directly from a recent and AWESOME movie. I couldn't help it. Oh well.

Enjoy!

* * *

The dire trees and spiny undergrowth receded all at once, as though the Fire Swamp were bordered by a fence beyond which the forest was green and lush and benign. From the boundary, the river that became an inlet to the sea shone in the setting sunlight, a sparkling ray of hope. Birdsong was in the air again, and the gurgling sound of the ground preparing to spit fire seemed very far away as the trio finally felt the first vestiges of relief.

But Quatre tensed as his heart felt a wave of something sinister too. His two companions noticed his sudden intake of breath and stopped, looking at him.

"Duo," Quatre said quietly, "disappear. Something's wrong. And if it goes really wrong, you know what to do." He stared at Duo intensely before making a particular sign with his fingers. The pirate let out a gusty sigh before nodding and taking to the trees agilely.

"What will he do?" Heero asked.

"Let's hope you don't have to find out," Quatre answered. Then, "Come on. I think your betrothed has found us."

"I'll simply explain things," Heero said as the pair of them began to head towards the water. "The Peacecraft family has never been unreasonable. Even if he is a prince, he probably won't want me once he knows I belong to you."

Quatre said nothing, but tipped his head as though listening. Then he asked, "Did Zechs bring guards back with him from wherever he was all these years? Guards you wouldn't know?"

"Yes," Heero added slowly. "He has his own men, and they've never mingled with the Royal Guard at all. But how did you know that?"

"Because these aren't any friends of yours."

Quatre tightened his hand in Heero's before bringing up his sword and handing Heero one of Duo's daggers. A moment later, a number of mounted soldiers appeared, quickly surrounding them. A few raised crossbows and aimed them at the pair. Prince Zechs sat in the center, his whole bearing regal and powerful as he looked down at them. To his right sat a man with brown hair and piercing eyes. When those eyes fell on Quatre, his face twisted in a strange smile.

"Surrender!" Prince Zechs ordered.

"Your Highness," Heero spoke from beside Quatre, "there is a misunderstanding. This man rescued me from those who intended to murder me. I am in no danger."

"You're wrong, Heero," Quatre said from behind grit teeth. "You are in more danger now than you were before."

"He's quite clever, this one," the man to Zech's right said, inclining his head. "And _talented_ as well."

There was an instant of tension in the air and then Quatre recoiled as if struck. He gasped and glared at the stranger before his whole face twisted in anger and concentration. A moment later, the man flinched violently enough that his horse shied before he could bring it back under control. He threw his head back and laughed.

"This should be an interesting challenge," he said to the prince. "I shall handle the blond. Explain things to your soldier. I sensed he might have been amenable to what you will propose at the tournament. Let us see if that still holds true."

"Quatre?" Heero looked to his side, but the green-blue eyes did not turn to him.

"He's like me, and very strong. His mind is a weapon," he said. "I'll keep him out of your mind, but that may be all I can do about this."

And Quatre moved a few paces off, his eyes fixed on his opponent, and they entered into a silent battle.

Heero turned back to Prince Zechs, waiting.

"Captain Heero Yuy," Zechs smiled slightly, "your companion is correct that you are in danger. For, you see, it is up to you whether you walk out of this forest today. You have a choice to make."

"Hn."

"You were abducted on my orders," Zechs said simply. "I want a war with Oz, and as you are so popular, your murder would certainly have accomplished that. The kingdom would have been outraged, not to mention my darling little sister. But, if what Treize says is correct about you, perhaps that is unnecessary. You could, in fact, join me."

To the side, Quatre twitched badly, the sword falling from his nerveless fingers. But the man Zechs had called Treize flinched as well, and appeared to be sweating. Heero privately thanked Quatre – by keeping the other man occupied, he could deal with Zechs without his heart's disgust being read and announced to all.

"Why should I?" Heero asked neutrally.

"War will show the people the reality of humanity, the horror we cause and the danger of the world. War is a deadly and wonderful teacher of truth. And there are material gains as well," he smiled not at all nicely. "We could do with a few more coastal cities under our control, and the warships are just sitting idle in Sanc Channel. There is so much that would come to us by war. But I cannot declare it without reason or it will never be accepted by the people."

"So you wanted me killed," Heero responded flatly.

"But if you wish to continue our betrothal, we can wage this war together. You need only describe the horrors perpetrated against you by Oz, or how you witnessed Ozians slaughtering their own people or some such thing. The populace will believe you, Heero Yuy of the guard, and so will my sister. The fire of your warrior spirit would greatly enhance my planning and my enjoyment of the outcome. Join me on the seat of power and be my sword to bring glory and triumph to Sanc against our mortal enemies!"

"And what of him?" Heero asked, turning to where Quatre had dropped to one knee, breathing heavily. His opponent did not look so tired, and somehow the wounds in Quatre's shoulders appeared to have reopened from their swift bandaging and blood ran down his chest.

Zechs looked across to Treize, who broke the stare for a moment. "He's too dangerous to be considered an ally. I'd like to keep him for my own, though."

"Well, he _is_ a demon by the laws of the church of Sanc," Zechs said with a shrug. "It is your right to deal with such monstrosities as you see fit, Count Khushrenada."

"Wait," Heero felt the word slip from him before he could call it back. He straightened his shoulders. "If we surrender and I return with you, will you promise not to hurt this man?"

"Has he come to mean something to you, then, Perfect Soldier?" Zech's mouth turned up in amusement.

"No," Heero's eyes narrowed. "Love is for children. I owe him a debt."

At the same instant, he was aware of Quatre's head snapping up and Treize shuddering. As their battle resumed, Zechs stared steadily at Heero, who forced his face to stay in its blank mask, cold and unemotional. His feelings would not save Quatre now, but his apathy might.

"I can see how you might take something like that quite seriously and I find that to be admirable," Zechs returned at last. "Honestly, I'd rather have you at my side than in my path."

"Then strike this bargain with me," Heero said.

"Don't," Quatre's voice was weak, but he tried to get to his feet. "Don't do this. There's another way, Heero."

As Quatre began to rise, one of the guards with a crossbow let fly a bolt, which embedded itself in the ground at his feet. Quatre snarled and lashed his head to one side, and the soldier who had shot gave a scream of pain and clutched his head, his horse rearing and falling over on them both. At once the other soldiers began to advance.

Heero took two swift steps to Quatre's side and picked up his fallen sword, holding it out. But it's curved blade was turned inward and he held it out laterally before himself, the sharpened edge even with his throat. "Call them back," he said to the prince, "or you will not have my willing cooperation."

"You may not have it anyway," Treize remarked. "He's impossible to read with the blond interfering so much. If you want him, capture him by force and we can determine his true desires later. Otherwise let him go ahead and slit his own throat. Either way you'll get something that will serve our plans."

In the trees, Duo bit his lip, holding perfectly still. He hadn't missed that Treize hadn't so much as glanced upwards – protection from Quatre as well as his own little skill was hiding him from the empath as surely as his practice disappearing into the shadows hid him from all eyes. The situation was rapidly going to pieces, and he couldn't see a way out of it. They were badly outnumbered and they could never outrun the mounted guards at this point, even if they went back into the Fire Swamp. And if somebody didn't do something fast, Heero would _stupidly_ slit his own throat before anybody else could do it for him.

"What should I do, Cat?" he thought as hard as he could. Sometimes Quatre could almost hear him when he was thinking that clearly.

Sure enough, though he was as shaky on his feet as a newborn horse, Quatre's fingers flashed in a familiar signal. Duo was tempted to rage at him.

It reminded him of when they had approached the Cliffs of Insanity only that morning:

"_We're too late!" Duo said, swearing in his native language as they rounded the last granite rock formation. "They're already moving up the cliff, and fast!"_

"_Doesn't matter," Quatre said, his eyes never leaving what he could see of Heero. "If they can get up there, so can I."_

"_Cat, you're good, but you're no born climber."_

"_You told me once that I took to the rigging better than anyone you'd ever seen," Quatre pointed out._

"_Yeah, but this isn't that. You go up there, you fall, you die." Duo pulled at his friend's shoulders and forced him to face him._

"_No. I won't die. I have something to protect."_

_The fierceness of Quatre's face, the sincerity of his eyes, reminded Duo why Shinigami had never found the heart to kill the guy. He shook his head and ruffled the golden hair fondly._

"_All right, Cat. All right. But if you're going up that thing after them, I'm going with you."_

"_No, Duo," Quatre put out a hand and caught one of Duo's shoulders in return. "They haven't seen us yet. If they think there's only one person following them, we'll have the advantage. One of us should hide until they are gone."_

"_It should be me that goes ahead, then. That way, if I screw up, you'll still be there to rescue that guy."_

"_I appreciate that, Duo, but this is my fight. That's my true love up there, and it should be me taking the risks. If I fail, you're the only person in the world I can trust to save him. I need you to do that. I need you to promise you'll save Heero, you'll watch over him, no matter what happens to me. Do you promise?"_

"_You know I will, Cat."_

_Quatre smiled at him a little sadly. "Thanks. I really shouldn't ask, but I can't help it. I already owe you so much, I cannot ask you to do more than you already have for me, even if..."_

_Duo actually shook him._

"_If you finish that sentence, I really am going to kill you this time, Quatre," he snarled. "You're my friend, the best friend I've ever really had. You ask me to die for you, I'll do it with a smile. I'd rather kill, but I'm not picky. This is your fight," he held up a hand as Quatre began to argue, "and I get that. I'll do things your way, but I'm not letting you go off alone. I'll tail you the whole way, even up this dumb cliff. You want me to step in at any time, you know what to do."_

"_I know, Duo."_

"_Good. I'll never be far behind. You might not see me, but I'll be there."_

"_Duo," and here Quatre actually pulled the braided man into a hug while he spoke softly, "I'll always see you."_

And all at once Duo understood Quatre's plan. Well, in Duo's opinion, it was less a "plan" and more "the worst possible way out of this scenario," but that was how Cat's mind tended to get when he was thinking about Heero Yuy. Sometimes true love seemed to make Cat smarter, but more often it made him a lot dumber. Otherwise he never would have taken his little tumble down a ravine earlier that day.

Duo drew something from his pocket silently, watching the proceedings below carefully. He could almost see the pieces connect as Quatre sensed him readying.

Zechs flicked a gesture at one of the guards who was nearest, and the man raised an arm, holding a bola weapon, the kind that would wrap a person in ropes with a set of stones at the end. Heero tensed visibly, saying something low under his breath. The man prepared to let fly with the bola and Duo took aim and fired.

He hit Heero with the dart just before the man released the bola, its stones spinning so fast they could hardly be seen. But the concoction on that dart worked like lightning, and Heero's reflexes were dulled by the time the ropes hit him. His body was wrapped up in the rough cord and he dropped hard and fast, as though one of the stones had knocked him out rather than the prick of the dart.

So he'd never had the chance to make good on his threat. He was captured, but totally unharmed, as Quatre had wanted.

"I'll take him back," Duo heard Zechs say. The guards closed on where Quatre had again dropped to one knee beside Heero's body. They extricated the sword from the soldier before hanging him over Zech's horse's saddle like a sack of grain and the prince turned to ride off. The blond never moved as they did so, seemingly exhausted and, of course, still bleeding quite a lot.

"Never been sorrier for keeping a promise," Duo grumbled under his breath as he began to follow Zechs. "Don't you make me regret it, Cat."

But he had given his word, and Quatre had signaled for him to protect Heero, to stay with him, and if that was the last thing his friend would ever ask him to do, he would not let him down.

On the ground below, Quatre looked up into the faces of the guards, as well as Treize who loomed above from horseback. He knew Duo couldn't feel his rush of gratitude as he sensed the pirate moving off. But it was for the best. He had a fair certainty he was not about to be murdered or it would have happened the instant Heero was unconscious. If they wanted him alive – and he could feel how dearly Treize did want him, even if he didn't know why – then he was far safer than Heero for now. And with another empath with whom to contend, Heero would quickly need Duo's help if he was to keep his heart his own.

Quatre looked appraisingly at Treize, wondering how strong the man would be against an enraged Heero and Duo combined. His curiosity attracted the man's attention, and he smiled an aristocratic smile full of condescension and poise.

"Such suspicion! I did promise no harm would come to you."

"No you didn't," Quatre returned, shaking his head and not letting himself wince at the pain of it. "Not even Prince Zechs promised that. Heero just proposed it."

"I suppose that's true. You're fairly clever, and more than a little skilled for a dirty pirate. I shall be very interested to see what I may learn from you."

Quatre said nothing to that, but did not resist as his hands were pulled behind him roughly and bound. His gaze focused on his true opponent, and his eyes widened. "You have six fingers on your right hand."

Treize's face went white with anger. Quatre smiled at him sweetly.

"Someone was looking for you."

This time Treize lashed at his mind with unbridled power and fury, and Quatre collapsed.

-==OOO==-

"...'_Wait,' Heero felt the word slip from him before he could call it back. He straightened his shoulders. 'If we surrender and I return with you, will you promise not to hurt this man?_'..."

"That's a stupid plan! Why is Heero being stupid?!"

"Isn't he usually?"

"What?"

"Nothing. You were saying...?"

"Giving up is stupid. This is the wrong time to surrender."

"Yes, Heero seems to have that problem in general."

"Really?"

"No. Never mind. Anyway, moving on..."


	12. The Pit of Despair

Things are getting a little more serious. And I'm being mean to my boys again. Oh well. It's good for them! Otherwise, how would they ever know how strong they are? Right? Right?

Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

Heero's eyes felt like they were full of sand. He raised his hand to wipe the grit away, finding as he did so that his fingers were bandaged together. He blinked as his vision swam, dark shadows and shapes flitting in the corners of his awareness. The bandage on his hand was soft and smooth, made of the finest materials. And whatever he was lying on felt unbelievably soft, too.

His eyes opened wide as recollection returned. Quatre. The Fire Swamp. Zechs and his count. The fight. Quatre.

"Quatre!"

"Easy," came a familiar voice. "Don't move a lot yet. You're awake a lot sooner than I figured, but it takes a while to wear off."

Heero turned his head against the fluffy pillow, noting as he did so that he was in one of the royal bedchambers – one that hadn't been used since there were more than two royal heirs. It was decorated as befit a prince. Sunlight streamed in the many-paned broad windows.

"Duo?" Heero managed, his throat feeling dry and his tongue tasting of lead.

"I'm here," there was motion and suddenly the familiar form was leaning over him. "Feeling okay? Sometimes that mix makes people want to lose all the food they've ever eaten."

"Mix?" Heero forced his thoughts to obey. "Where's Quatre? What happened?"

"Okay, here's the short version: Cat and me had a deal that I would look after you if something happened to him. Well, with that crazy Treize guy, something happened all right. He and Quatre got into some kind of war of the minds, and he was losing. And you were getting ready to fight everybody off, but that was going nowhere, believe me. So Cat asked me to take you out. I hit you with one of my darts. Not the Shinigami mix of instant death, but the sleepy-time drug instead."

"Why?" Heero demanded. He tried to sit up but found his arms didn't want to hold him so he flopped back into the sheets with a muttered curse.

"'Cause that prince offered you a deal that would keep you safe. And Treize wasn't about to kill Quatre. Haven't you ever had to run away so you could regroup and try again later?" Duo shook his head. "Fighting would have gotten you both killed. Cat knew that. And from what Zechs said, this is about more than you and Cat anyway – it's about your whole dumb country. You can't help anybody if you're dead in the woods."

Heero frowned darkly and Duo shrugged at him.

"Yeah, as situations go, it's awful. But you're alive, and Cat's alive, and you're here," he indicated the room, "where you can do some good. Don't you want to find out what Zechs is planning and put a stop to it? I'd have thought the big important guard of the princess would want to keep her older brother from putting the whole kingdom in danger."

"Where is Quatre?" Heero growled.

"That…is the one snag," and Duo ducked his head. "He made me promise to watch out for you and I had to follow you all the way back here without losing track just in case. So I don't know where they took him. I've searched this place and he's not in the palace. But Treize is, so he can't be far away. I'll find him." Here his eyes took on a darker, creepy light. "_Nobody_ walks off with my buddy."

"You've been here for how long?"

"A day or so. Long enough for you to miss me breaking a few house rules. Sorry about that," he managed a small, insincere smile. "But I didn't have to kill anybody yet. You got good security around here, but it looks to me like this whole wing of the castle is just Zechs's guards, and they're not nearly as good as the rest. Once I got past your buddies in the _real_ Royal Guard, Zechs's goons were easy."

Heero closed his eyes to think for a moment. Zechs wanted a war with Oz, and was willing to do anything to get it. What Duo had said was true – Princess Relena was in terrible danger. Their father, the king, was in very frail health, bedridden and near death. His advisors and ministers were ruling while he still lived to give instructions, but the instant he died the crown would fall to Zechs. Relena was beloved throughout Sanc; if she opposed her brother's plans at all, she would be a threat to him and a liability, and Heero had a good idea he knew how that would end. His sworn place was here, in the palace, doing whatever he could to protect Relena. Even if that meant making an enemy of her brother.

But what about Quatre? What could Treize want with him? And what would Treize do to him?

"What can we do about Treize?" he asked instead. "You know more about this than I do."

"Cat's the expert," Duo shook his head. "Most of what I know is what Cat will and won't do, and how to block myself from somebody like him for a little while. I don't know what exactly our little buddy _can_ do – he's always been more interested in what he _should_ do."

Heero set aside that knowledge about Quatre for later consideration and focused on the more immediate fact. "You can block Treize so he can't read your feelings?"

"Yup, and I gotta teach you to do it too," Duo nodded. "Otherwise the minute that prince comes and asks if you want in on his crazy plan, Treize is gonna know what you really think. Besides, I don't think Zechs or Treize know what you and Quatre mean to each other, and unless you want them to figure it out, you're gonna have to keep that count out of your head."

"Agreed." This time Heero was successful in levering himself up to a sitting position.

"Let's do this, then," Duo sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'll teach you all my tricks right now. Then, the sooner I know you can hold your own against those two, the sooner I can get back out there looking for Cat. I gotta keep an eye on you because I promised, but if you are playing along with those guys, I won't have to watch you all the time, just when you're doing something dumb."

"I won't do anything dumb," Heero retorted, but he sensed the smile behind Duo's expression and a corner of his mouth turned up. "I've got enough to do putting a stop to a war and keeping Treize and Zechs focused on me until you can get to Quatre. When I have him back, though," his eyes flashed, "then _nothing_ will stop me from doing my duty. My princess and this kingdom _will_ be safe, even from their own prince. This is one mission I will complete without fail."

"You keep those two looking at you, and I'll be ready when you want to make your move," Duo agreed. "I can even bring in the Maganacs, 'cause there's no way they'll stay out of a fight Cat's in. When you need, well, not an army but a bunch of us, we'll be there. And when it's done and we're all big heroes, you and Cat and stay here and hang with that princess kid or come with me or whatever you want."

"When the kingdom is safe for Princess Relena," Heero nodded, a warmth spreading in his chest, "I will go home with Quatre and never fight again." And he realized he longed for that day with surprising passion.

Unbeknownst to either Duo or Heero, as they settled in to prepare Heero to defend against Treize's empathy, that feeling of warm love and hope and peace was echoed in another heart elsewhere in the kingdom, waking Quatre from the stupor into which he had fallen.

Quatre's first awareness was of Heero's feelings, and that was a great comfort against the next sensation to reach him – pain. Unremitting pain behind his eyes and also thudding hotly through his shoulder. The latter was the legacy of the giant rodent, but the former was the lasting impact of his duel with Treize; hopefully the count had a matching migraine in return. He blinked and raised his head slightly, finding that he was lying stretched on a table, his wrists and ankles secured with heavy manacles. The remains of his shirt had been removed, and the cold of the space bit at his exposed skin. The place looked like an underground cavern, and the smell of wet earth was mixed with what could only be the scent of blood.

The echoes of pain and suffering, of terror and grief and rage he could sense at the edges of his heart certainly didn't add to Quatre's appreciation of his surroundings.

His exhausted empathy warned him only moments before his ears caught a squeaking sound. From his right a figure in grey appeared, pushing a cart whose wheels were in desperate need of repair. It was a woman, long white-blonde hair pulled tightly behind her. She wore the robes of a cloistered maiden, but the gleeful expression in her eyes suggested her piety had nothing to do with holiness. She mixed a few bowls of fluid on the cart and began dabbing at the wound on Quatre's shoulder.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"The pit of despair," she responded with a bright smile as if she were discussing the beauty of the stars. "Don't even think about trying to escape. The chains are far too thick. And don't dream of being rescued, either. The only way in is secret, and only the prince, the count, and I know how to get in and out."

"So I'm here until I die, then?" Quatre asked wryly.

"Until they kill you, yes."

Quatre eyed her surprisingly careful ministrations of his shoulder, where she was now adeptly cleaning dirt and sand from the torn flesh. "Then why bother with this?"

"The prince and the count always insist on everyone being healthy before they're _broken_." The emphasis on the last word was accompanied by a thrill of dark pleasure that made Quatre want to shiver.

"Torture?" he asked. Her smile widened and he let out a long breath. "I am not afraid of torture."

"Oh," she giggled, "you _should_ be. I hear you survived the Fire Swamp, so you must be very brave. But not even a warrior, not even an empath like Count Khushrenada, can withstand the machine."

"Are you so sure?" Quatre replied, looking for chinks in her armor he could use to gain an advantage.

"Quite sure," she almost sang back at him. "After all, I was once nothing but a maiden who longed to assist a healer with my herbs and my kindness." Her face darkened in a wicked, cruel grimace. "Then the machine changed me, opened my eyes. And here I am!"

She actually twirled, arms outstretched. Facing him once more, she considered her bloody fingers and folded them before her in an imitation of prayer.

"The machine won't kill you. Probably. But it will make all those evil impulses in your heart strong until you are free of the constraints of yourself. It did this to me and I had the mildest gift you've ever heard of. I can't _wait_ to see what it will do with the potential in you. You won't be dead, but anything you think you are now will be _burned_ away until you are what you always should have been!"

"And what is that?" Quatre made himself ask, utterly sickened.

She leaned close and whispered in his ear, lips caressing the skin that had gone cold and clammy.

"A monster."

-==OOO==-

"_She leaned close and whispered in his ear, lips caressing the skin that had gone cold and clammy. 'A monster_.'..."

"Oh poor Quatre!"

"Is this too scary for you?"

"Um...maybe a little. Is it going to have a happy ending?"

"More or less."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm not going to give it away. You must have courage to learn the truth, little one."

"Okay...okay, I can do that."

"Of course you can."


	13. Heero's Choice

And now the time has come for our story to veer into new directions and let some of the movie be left behind. Not all of it, mind. Just some of it. You'll see.

Enjoy!

* * *

There was a knock on the door, giving Heero enough time to straighten the dark green jerkin he had found hanging beside the bed. Apparently his uniform had been replaced, and while the dark leggings were fine and expensive, and the green velvet made his eyes appear even bluer, he missed the utility of the grey tunic. Not to mention the armor and weaponry.

"Good afternoon, Heero," Zechs pushed into the room a touch cautiously, but upon seeing the soldier making a proper bow, eyes averted, he smiled indulgently. "None of that between us, now. We're to be married."

Heero straightened, but kept his eyes focused at the level of the prince's throat. He never so much as glanced across to where Treize had entered as well, closing the door behind himself. Instead, Heero rested his hands at the small of his back in relaxed military posture and said, "Until such time as we wed, it is not my place to look above the station of Captain of the Royal Guard."

Zechs tipped his head and caught Treize's eye. Heero schooled his face and his emotions into order, remembering everything Duo had told him about blocking an empath from reading his intentions. A lot of it, the pirate had explained, had to do with either believing what you said by being careful with your words or manufacturing emotions without giving away that they were false. Thus, he was focused on enveloping himself in his warrior training and discipline, locking it around himself like a cage.

Treize narrowed his eyes for a moment before nodding fractionally to Zechs. Heero meant every word of what he had said.

"I'm pleased to hear you say so," Zechs smiled. "Our last conversation was interrupted and difficult. I hope you can forgive the rough treatment of your person. But there was no way to know the truth of your loyalties in the presence of that pirate."

"Your caution was well-advised and entirely sensible," Heero replied evenly. And it was – he'd have done the same if their position were switched. He was careful to not even think about anything else.

Again, Zechs looked to Treize, who nodded, more confidently this time.

"You are being supremely reasonable about this, Heero," Zechs said, slightly more interested. "From our encounter in the forest I would have thought you would be at least in part averse to my aims."

"And in a sense, I am," Heero responded honestly. Here was his best opening – by giving the empath an unvarnished, uncautious truth to read, he could remove much of their suspicions and close scrutiny. "I do not _want_ to fight a war. However, there is something worse than war, and that is war fought by those who are not prepared for it. I am a soldier, and my life is cheap. If war is coming to Sanc, I would rather be a part of it so that I can help ensure a decisive victory and cause the least harm to our lands. Your aim for power does not interest me. I intend to protect Sanc, and I can do that best by fighting."

"That is a very wise opinion for a soldier," Treize spoke at last, his own face breaking into a smug smile. "I believe I have been wrong about you, Heero Yuy. I believed you to be simple. Instead, you see all too clearly."

"Treize?" Zechs asked.

"He is being utterly frank with us now," Treize continued to smile. "He knows a war is inevitable, and he would rather fight than see others die needlessly. He has a stubborn streak of nobility, this one, but I think it will serve us well. I am certain he is resigned to the world we intend to create."

Heero did not move or twitch, but he relaxed fractionally; an empath who is confident is not careful, Duo had advised, and Treize's pride seemed to shut his heart as his feelings of superiority grew. While Treize began to speak at some length about the wisdom of a soldier who knows his life is but a war or something (Heero stopped listening after a few long sentences), Heero let the tiniest thought slide through his own consciousness – "War is inevitable in Sanc now, it's true – because of you. And I do intend to fight it, and I _will not fail_. But the outcome I will work towards may not be what you expect."

When it seemed Treize had finished his lengthy piece of war philosophy, Heero shifted marginally to regain their attention. He still did not look up but asked, "What are your orders now, Prince Zechs?"

"For now, I think it best you become acquainted with the other forces we shall bring to bear. Many of our soldiers will answer only to Treize or myself, but you should have a company of your own. You will have to choose from our men, however. The Royal Guard will not be sufficient."

"Acceptable," Heero nodded shortly. He certainly didn't want his Royal Guard involved in this.

"Come," Zechs put out an arm and Heero obediently allowed himself to be led, though he still did not look up. "I will show you where they are training and you can give me your opinion of them."

"Yes, Prince Zechs."

"I've got some other things to attend to," the count raised a hand in farewell, "but I will not go far. I shall see you both over dinner."

Heero did not relax his guard until he and Zechs were well outside the palace, where anyone following them would have been clearly visible to him. And even then, he did not let his emotions betray him, but at least he could let his thoughts roam a little more freely. He permitted himself to react naturally, which is to say with tension and relief and also suspicion, upon encountering some members of his own Guard, all of whom expressed their gladness that he had returned safely. As far as the Guard knew, nothing had changed, after all.

Zechs took him to one of the barracks nearest his wing of the palace that housed his men, and Heero remarked on their training regimen honestly, while neglecting to point out certain flaws he could see. To a man, every one of the soldiers Zechs had brought with him from his travels was a good fighter and worked superbly in formation with one another. But not a one of them had the same level of skill when in the midst of a skirmish where their ranks were broken. It was an advantage Heero knew he would be able to use, and so he simply suggested training in different formations to give variety instead of actually improving their ability to improvise.

By dinnertime, Heero had gotten used to practicing the intense emotional control and thus was able to eat calmly in the presence of Prince Zechs and Count Khushrenada. Additionally, he was finally able to confirm for himself that Princess Relena was unharmed, and that did much to relieve his concern. The princess chattered at him worriedly, and when Heero was more taciturn than usual – again, something his enemies could put down to his change in loyalties – she ordered him to go to bed early that he might continue to rest after his ordeal. Grateful of the respite, Heero obeyed.

He knew Duo would return to his room in the middle of the night sometime to report on his progress, so Heero was tossing and turning quite fitfully when a cry went up throughout the palace. Without a second thought, he threw on his clothing and bolted from the room, actually going so far as to take a sword from one of the suits of armor lining the corridors that he might be prepared for anything.

The cry became a wail of sorrow and fear and Heero rounded the last corner to find a crowd outside the king's bedchamber.

"Everybody _MOVE_!" he bellowed. The Royal Guardsmen cleared the way in an instant, and Heero sped past them into the room.

"Father! Father! Oh, father, no!" Princess Relena was curled up on her knees on the grand bed, weeping. Behind her Zechs stood stonily, Treize at his elbow. The other servants in the room were also distraught.

The king was dead.

Heero reacted on pure instinct. "You there," he called to the two nearest Guardsmen, "go and fetch the priest at once, and send someone to wake the royal ministers. If the king has truly left this world, it must be witnessed and all the proper forms observed." They ran to obey.

"Prince Zechs," Heero raised his eyes to Zech's face, his expression granite. "Please stay here so that you too may bear witness to the declaration as is your right and duty. I will leave as many of my guards as you desire to prevent any irregularities, but for now my duty is elsewhere."

Zechs was very surprised and had just turned to Treize for analysis, but Heero ignored him. Instead, he stepped right onto the dais by the bed and put a hand on Princess Relena's shoulder. She quieted her sobbing and raised her head to him.

"Heero…"

"Princess Relena," he said, his voice low, "you do not need to be here for this. I will take you to your room. Come with me."

The flash of panic left Zech's face and he nodded. "Yes, Relena, let me handle this. Please go to where you can mourn in peace."

"All…all right," she struggled to control her face, but her grief was plain in spite of her best efforts.

"Please leave sufficient guards with us," Treize said to Heero as the soldier carefully helped the princess from the bed and, when her feet seemed unsteady, supported her weight.

"Yes, Count Khushrenada." He was practically carrying Relena, but he got her out the door fairly quickly. He barked more orders at the men standing by, orders that would positively ensure that the body, the prince, and everybody else would be well-guarded as well as watched. The king was dead – there was no such thing as too much paranoia now.

"…Heero?" Relena asked as they came within sight of her rooms.

"Yes, Princess?"

"What happens now?"

He looked into her blue eyes, wide and vivid with tears, and somehow so very young. And yet there was something in them, something of strength born of kindness, determination and will, but gentleness, that reminded him so powerfully of Quatre he bit his lip to keep from touching her hair turned golden in the torchlight. He tightened his grip, even though she no longer needed it, and opened the door to her chambers.

"Out, all of you," he ordered shortly, surprising the ladies in waiting that tended to flock around Relena. They quit the room quickly, and Heero steered the princess to a low chair. When she was seated, he dropped to one knee before her.

"Princess, do you trust me?" He met her eyes with all the intensity of his being.

"Yes, Heero," and this time there was no waver in her voice. "With my life."

"I need you to trust me with more than that," he replied. "Can you trust me with the safety of all of Sanc?"

"Y-yes," she was taken aback. "But why?"

"Things are going to happen now. Your brother is in line for the throne. I am going to help him, work with him for a time. But you must know that you cannot trust him. Your brother wants some things that will not be good for you or your people."

"I do know that," and this wasn't a childish princess answering him but the woman he had long known she could become. "I know Zechs has something he wants, and I know he doesn't want me to know about it."

"It's worse than that, but you will be safer if you don't know the details. Your father entrusted your safety into my keeping, Princess Relena, and I have not abandoned that duty, no matter what it looks like. You must believe in me."

"I do."

"Good," he nodded. "Then go on as though nothing has happened. Mourn your father. Be yourself. Don't push into Zech's business unless you have no choice. Let nothing change. I will be watching over you. And…" he leaned closely to her, making a sudden decision. "There is a man in the palace with violet eyes and very long hair in a braid. His name is Duo, and he is my friend. I owe him my life. If he comes to you, you can trust him as you would me. But no one else."

"I understand, Heero," Relena held out a hand and gripped his with only a small tremor. "I will do my best. But," and fear crept into her features, "please don't get hurt. I just lost Papa. Please don't make me cry over you too."

"Don't worry, Princess," he rose and released her hand with a real smile, "I cannot die. I have a mission now and nothing will stop me. I have something to protect."

-==OOO==-

"..._The king was dead_..."

"No, that's not right!"

"It's not?"

"No! It's supposed to be just a bad dream! It's not supposed to have actually happened!"

"Well, it did. Get used to it."


	14. The Machine

So, I just have to gloat a little. Yesterday I wrote something like 10,000 words, seriously. And I'm closing in on the end of my massive Gundam Wing crossover project. I think I'll have it done by the end of December, so when this one finishes up, I'll be ready with a whole new story! I'm really excited. I've been fighting this monster for a long while, it seems, though it's only been about a year. It's good to see it coming together.

I think I'm going to try another set of twisted fairy tales, though, because this was such fun to write. I'll make a collection of it – The Gundam Princess Bride, The XYZ and the Beast, and CinderABC. To be announced when they're ready, of course.

Anyway, onto the trials and tribulations of our heroes.

Enjoy!

* * *

Duo met Heero in his room, emerging out of the shadows of the folds in the window hangings.

"He was murdered."

Heero froze for a moment before nodding slowly, stowing the sword he still carried next to the fireplace. "I feared that would be the case. Was it Zechs?"

"More likely that count guy, but I wasn't watching them tonight so I can't say for sure. The priest is already saying his heart gave out, but poison's possible. Either that or an attack by empathy. It's not like we can really tell the difference," Duo flopped onto a chair, but there was nothing relaxed about his expression. "What happens now?"

"I am sworn to protect the Royal Family, which, if Zechs is in any way behind this, no longer includes him. I will continue to do my duty for Princess Relena, especially now that I have failed the king," Heero frowned darkly. "And I will continue to play this game, though I would rather just challenge Zechs and have it out."

"Can you do that?"

"No. Only Relena can do that. I could fight as her champion, but she'd have to give the order first."

"Isn't that how you got in this mess in the first place?" Duo managed a small smile.

"Yes. But this time I wouldn't let him win." Heero looked at the coals in the fireplace, thinking. "Though it's too bad. He is a worthy opponent. Almost exactly like me."

"Except _crazy_. Don't forget that part," Duo replied. Heero acknowledged that fact with a smile.

"Anyway, what about you? Have you found Quatre yet?"

"No," Duo shook his head. "Treize didn't leave the castle at all today. I'm going to have to find Cat by following him when he goes to gloat or do whatever he's going to do, unless you've got any better ideas. If I had Cat's abilities I could just, you know, feel him out, but I can't."

"And if I had Quatre's abilities, I wouldn't need to hide from Treize," he let out a long breath. Then, frowning, "Won't the count sense your presence?"

"Not me," the pirate managed a small smile. "What I taught you to deal with him is the easy baby stuff. I've had years with Cat to teach me. I could be standing behind Count Khushy and feeling exactly like I want to kill him – which I do – and he'd never know it. I'm the best sneak there ever was, even for somebody like him. If you and me are right next to each other, I'm so good he won't feel you, either."

"But I am not with you all the time. I'm liable to make a mistake, and without Quatre here to distract him, Treize will feel it at once if I do." Heero's hands curled into fists. "We need him, Duo. _I _need him, and not just because of my feelings for him. I need him to help me protect Relena and Sanc."

"Yeah, but there's nothing we can do about it now."

"I should just kill Treize," Heero looked up. "For as long as there is breath is his body, Quatre is in danger. My true love could die at any time and I do nothing." His voice dropped, low and cold. "There will be great suffering for them all if he dies."

"We'll find him, or I'll be right there with you causing the suffering," Duo rose, and the look on his face was one Heero imagined served him very well as Shinigami. "I've got one other lead. Those guys who were hired to kidnap you worked for the prince. They might know something."

"Find them," Heero said sharply. "With the king dead, Zechs will have to have a consort before he can be crowned due to an old law, and he isn't going to want to wait. If I end up married to that…" he grit his teeth, "let's just say it's not going to be good for anybody's health."

"Don't worry, Hee-chan," Duo squeezed his shoulder as he moved to the door, "if it comes to that, I'll put you out again before the deed is done. Can't even _imagine_ what Cat would do to me if I let you get married when I was supposed to be protecting you!"

Duo left the room and moved quickly down the halls he had learned by heart. He'd developed a route that carried him through the most lax guard postings, to where he had easy access to the outside. He would much rather have stayed to keep an eye on Treize, because his hunch was that at some point the empath would make his way to wherever Quatre was being held, but Heero was right. If those guys who had abducted Heero knew anything about Treize's habits, finding them might be faster than waiting around on that smug count to set foot outside the palace.

It was after dawn before he found someone who recognized his descriptions of either the swordsman or the acrobat, and the resulting rumors and suggestions and witnesses led him far afield, so he had no way of knowing that Treize left the palace that very morning, walking out into the woods alone with Zechs.

"He really is quite a dedicated creature," Treize said conversationally. "A trifle overzealous in my opinion, but his appeal is undeniable."

"Oh, I know. The people are quite taken with him, to say nothing of my sister. It's odd, but when I hired G to have him murdered after announcing our betrothal, I thought that was clever. But it's so much more advantageous to have him at my side to openly testify to the evils of our enemies. Once Oz is unveiled by him as being behind my father's death, the nation will be truly outraged. They'll demand we go to war."

"Indeed. And you gain rather a good warrior at your back as well," Treize nodded. Then he turned to the grove of strange, gangly trees they had reached. "Now, where is that secret knot? It's impossible to find."

He moved to a specific tree and his seeking fingers found a portion of the wood that served as a catch, revealing a doorway hidden in the very trunk of the tree.

"Are you coming down into the pit? The pirate has his empathic strength back, so I am starting him on the machine at once."

"Treize," Zechs said with regret, "you know how much I love watching you work, and your findings may well make the difference in our efforts. But I've got a coronation to plan, a wedding to arrange, my husband to enrage the populace, and Oz to conquer. I'm swamped."

"Get some rest," Treize smiled a little. "If you haven't got your health, you haven't got anything."

And he turned to the stairway that led him into the dark.

"Good morning, Count Khushrenada!" Dorothy sang out from where she was mixing another batch of potions.

"Good morning, Dorothy," he greeted her politely. He had good reason to be polite today – her last concoction had been rather instrumental in last night's affairs with the king. "Bring him out."

Dorothy sprang to pull the table, arranged on wheels, into the larger part of the cavern, her eyes roving approvingly over the pale form still bound, but his wounds were distinctly healing. His blue-green eyes flashed and Dorothy could feel his empathy reaching for her. But then the same dark power that was her constant companion rose up to cradle her and she simply giggled at him.

"None of that, now!"

"I'm pleased to see how quickly you recovered from our duel," Treize said, moving to stand beside the table. "Not many would be capable of so much so soon."

"I've always been a quick healer," Quatre replied. The table shifted and he was suddenly clearly able to see an enormous contraption taking up most of the space. It had wooden and metal supports, wheels and bellows and metallic-looking pins that were arranged in strange patterns.

"Beautiful, isn't it? Took me half a lifetime to invent it. I'm sure you are aware of my deep and abiding interest in our shared gift, but more importantly, in its ability to manipulate and permanently impact the mind. At present, I'm writing the definitive work on the subject. You will be a critical study, so I want you to be totally honest with me on how the machine interacts with your empathy."

He and Dorothy maneuvered the table so that Quatre was most of the way under the machine, and Dorothy quickly affixed a number of bands and what felt like bits of glass or rubber to various places on his head and chest. Cold dread settled itself in Quatre's stomach, and he closed his eyes.

"What I am cannot be broken by any mind," he told himself silently, "no matter how strong."

"This being our first try, I'll use the lowest setting," Treize commented. Then he pulled a lever and Quatre heard the machine above him begin to click and whir.

Pain. Pain pain pain pain.

Then…

Coldness, absolute oblivion.

Then…

_Hate_.

"As you know," Treize spoke as he watched the pale form writhe and felt with satisfaction the changes being wrought in the heart open to his examination, "the concept of the suction pump is centuries old. Really that's all this is, except that instead of sucking water, I'm sucking emotions and memories."

He released the lever and moved to his desk. He could hear and feel his captive reacting still, but he felt the need to continue to explain, so he held up a glass jar filled with stones.

"Imagine that your heart and all that makes you who you are is this jar, and the stones are your feelings, your memories, your charming personality. As the stones are removed, the jar becomes emptier until it is entirely devoid of all that it was before. Right now it is a jar of stones. But when the jar is emptied, it becomes a jar of whatever I wish to put in it. I need only remove them. I've just sucked some of your emotions and memories away. I think you can now imagine why I call the machine Zero."

Dorothy wheeled the table out from under the machine, and Treize noted in the parchment records he had begun that there were new, deep bruises everywhere the machine had been affixed to the pirate's body, and that the normally-pale skin was as white as newly-fallen snow.

"We'll do a little bit at a time, of course, to empty you completely. If I were to put the machine to its highest setting, I don't really know what that would do to you. Now, you must tell me what you feel. And remember, this is for posterity, so be honest." He opened his senses wide and waited.

It started as merely a tremor. But slowly it grew from a twitch to a muffled vocalization to a wild, uncontrolled, _insane_ laughter. Dorothy clapped her hands and started to laugh as well. Treize felt madness brush the edge of his empathy and he smiled broadly.

"Interesting."

-==OOO==-

"..._I've just sucked some of your emotions and memories away. I think you can now imagine why I call the machine Zero_..."

"..._nghf_..."

"Are you all right?"

"...yes..."

"Be strong. It must get worse if it is to get better."

"_Worse_?!"


End file.
